


Cuspids

by sapphicjasper



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Autistic Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Murder Family, Slow Burn, Teacher Will Graham, Vampire AU, Vampire Hannibal Lecter, Werewolf AU, Werewolf Will Graham, hannibal is the school psychologist, high school au (but theyre all teachers except for abigail)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicjasper/pseuds/sapphicjasper
Summary: “You are free to view me as a heartless killer." Hannibal said. "You can even turn me in, and I spend the rest of my life in an institution. Abigail would go into foster care. But that gaping pit of loneliness growing within you will not fade -- unless you connect with a human being, that is, or discover a fellow monster whose hands are cleaner than yours.”His hand drifted upward, gently brushing against Will's chin. “Or, you can accept me for my past sins. You make a friend in the process. We hunt together. We keep each other company."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 99
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

Will dropped his pen against the desk with a sigh and buried his face into his hands. Nearly an hour had passed since the students left the school, and he’d barely made a dent in the stack of papers he needed to grade… Any other day, he’d be nearly finished; yet on this particular afternoon, focusing was next to impossible. 

He knew _why_ his mind wasn’t all in the right place, too, which somehow made it all the more frustrating; it was the afternoon before a full moon. His transformation only began as the sun set, and his full form reared its ugly head the precise moment the full moon was visible in the sky... But in the daylight hours before that, weakness would overtake his body. His skin would prickle, as if preparing for the thick fur that would burst from his flesh... And the hunger was unbearable. Nothing he ate would satisfy him -- nothing but the fresh prey that he’d kill with his own fangs, but that obviously wasn’t something he could eat in a teacher’s lounge. 

"Will?" 

Will flinched in surprise as he spotted Jack in the doorway. He hadn't heard his footsteps in the hallway, or even noticed he’d opened the door. 

At seeing his reaction, Jack's already-concerned expression only deepened. "I need to talk to you about something." 

"May I recover from my heart attack, first?" Will said with a sigh, taking a sip from his water bottle. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair. “Alright, lecture away.” 

"I’m not here to lecture you." Jack said, pulling up a chair and seating himself on the opposite end of Will’s desk. In response, he turned his gaze back down to his stack of paperwork. Eye contact simply wasn’t one of Will’s qualities, which Jack had come to understand, and he'd learned to distinguish when Will was listening and when he was flat out ignoring him. This time, fortunately, he knew it was the former. 

“So what’s on your mind?” Will said, tapping the paper with his pen. 

"I think I should be the one asking you that." Jack said with a slight smile. "I'm talking to you about this in private so it won't feel like an intervention. You haven't been yourself lately." 

Will rolled his eyes without thinking. _’It sure feels like an intervention.’_

"...And I understand why you refuse to seek therapy, and that your personal life and well being are not my business." Jack continued, biting back the urge to scold Will for rolling his eyes at him. "But Will, students are starting to notice. Some have come to me with genuine concern, others crack jokes in the hallway.” 

"I’m a teacher, Jack. They're going to crack jokes about me no matter how mentally well I am." Will sighed. 

"Yes, but this isn’t about jokes,” Jack began, “It’s about _you_ ; you’re zoning out during lessons and calling off every other week. And once the students start noticing, that’s a sign you _need_ to get yourself a therapist.” 

Will tightened his grip on his pen. He _knew_ it was coming, but that T word simply made the hairs on his spine prickle. "I'd rather eat the gum from under the cafeteria tables." 

" _Will._ " Jack glared at him; his patience was clearly thinning the longer this conversation went on. "If you won't see a therapist... I’m asking at the very least that you talk to someone.” 

"I'm talking to someone right now." Will joked. 

"I mean Dr. Lecter." 

Will glanced up from his papers, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to talk about my problems to a _high school counselor_?" 

"As far as I'm concerned, he has the degree required to figure out what the hell is going on with you." Jack said. "I'm not doing this to make you uncomfortable, Will... I wouldn't be doing this if I was the only one concerned. But even _Freddie_ has started worrying about you." 

Will dropped his pen. “Damn, seriously? Even I’ll admit that’s concerning.” he said with a laugh. 

"Exactly. Now, I know I can't force you to do anything..." Jack said, rising back to his feet. "But if you know what's good for you, you'll either see a psychiatrist or at bare _minimum_ talk to Dr. Lecter." 

"If it'll help you sleep at night, I'll have a conversation with him tomorrow during lunch." Will said. 

Jack smiled. It had been a while since Will had seen him so genuinely pleased with him, and he couldn’t help feeling slightly relieved. “Yes, I’ll sleep _very_ well tonight knowing that.” he said. 

"Alrighty then." Will said. "Anything else on your mind, or am I free to get back to work?” 

"I won’t disrupt you again." Jack said with a nod, and pulled the door shut behind himself.

* * *

"Soup's on, guys!" Will announced, and the horde of dogs scampered straight into the kitchen. 

_”Food! Food!”_ the dogs barked. 

He placed six bowls down on the rubber place mats, each filled with dog food he'd prepared from scratch. As he watched the dogs dig in, Will felt his own hunger growing more intense. He tapped his nails against the kitchen counter, peering outside at the sunset; the sky hadn't darkened quite enough yet, but as the hair on his body thickened, and his sharpening canines pressed against his tongue, he knew the full moon would be out any minute, now. 

Will glanced back at the dogs one last time, and then made his way towards the back door. “I’m gonna head out, now. Watch over the house for me.” he said. 

_”Be safe, Will!”_ Winston said. 

_”Bring me home a rabbit!”_ Buster barked, wagging his tail. 

“Can’t make any promises, but I’ll try." Will chuckled. 

As he stepped outside, he gazed into the vast woods just beyond his back yard. He took in the scents of the forest; mostly squirrels, mice, birds, a rabbit or two... Certainly not enough to nourish a fully transformed werewolf, but thankfully, he had the whole night to hunt down more substantial prey. 

The chilly night air ruffled his fur. As the sky darkened, Will sank down to all fours and lurked into the darkness.

* * *

The school bell rang, grating against Will’s sleep deprived head, and he rubbed at his ears with his knuckles. 

“No homework tonight, but try to review pages 105 through 115.” he said as the students filed out, rubbing his eyes. 

As the classroom emptied, Will grabbed his water bottle and headed for the door; Jack passed him in the hallway, giving him a look that said “You _better_ be going to Dr. Lecter’s office”, and Will responded with an eye-roll that said “Yeah, yeah, get off my ass already.” 

Will walked against the current of noisy teenagers heading for the cafeteria, apologizing as he bumped into someone here and there. The mere thought of eating lunch nauseated him; after his monthly transformation and hunt, he’d scarfed down enough meat to hold him off for the next week. 

Soon enough, he’d reached the office, and he gave a brief knock on the glass window. 

The door immediately opened, as if Hannibal had been waiting for him. _’Weirdo.’_

“Good afternoon, Mr. Graham.” Hannibal greeted with a polite nod. “Come in and have a seat.” 

Will cautiously made his way into the office, seating himself in the leather chair across from Hannibal’s desk. On it was a wooden name tag that read “Dr. Hannibal Lecter”; there were a couple framed photographs and a single potted plant. In the center of the desk was a graphite drawing, though due to the dim lighting of the office, Will couldn’t see it very well. 

“So, what would you like to talk about today?” Hannibal asked, sitting himself down in his rolling chair and placing his folded hands on his desk. 

“Well, guess I’ll set something straight first.” Will said. “I told Jack I didn’t want to see a therapist. So… please don’t treat me like I’m your patient.” 

“I had no intention of doing so.” Hannibal chuckled. “Jack told me you weren’t comfortable being a patient. We’re simply talking as coworkers; even friends, if that’s what you’d like.” 

Will adjusted his glasses. “That’s what I’d hoped.” he said. 

A silence filled the room; Hannibal watched Will expectantly as he bounced his leg, and once he realized Will wasn’t going to speak first, he decided to take the lead. “What is your life like outside of work, Will?” 

Will tapped his fingernails against the arm rest. “I go home, take care of my dogs, sleep.” _’And once a month I turn into a vicious bloodthirsty canine that attacks everything in its line of sight.’_

“Is that all?” 

“More or less.” 

“Well, that’s a start. It doesn’t sound like a very enriching lifestyle.” Hannibal said. As he spoke, he reached for a graphite pencil, turning his attention down to the drawing on his desk. 

Will shrugged. “Maybe, but not the reason I’m here. Lately I’ve been… zoning out. Struggling to stay awake in class, not grading assignments on time. Jack told me students are starting to notice.” 

“Maybe so, but there could be a correlation between the two.” Hannibal said, reaching for a pencil sharpener. “Humans are social creatures. Dogs can fulfill some of our needs, and so can the individuals we work with, but I have a feeling talking with people outside of a work environment would do you some good.” 

“That’s technically what I’m doing now. I’m on my lunch break.” Will snorted. 

Hannibal smiled. “That is true. And since I’m not your therapist, I suppose this counts.” 

“Are you certain?” Will asked. “Or are you saying that just to make me more comfortable?” 

“A therapist would not draw during a session with a patient.” Hannibal said, gesturing to the drawing in front of him. “I also cannot, ethically, be your therapist, considering we work in the same building.” 

“Alright, fair enough.” Will said. “So… What do _you_ do outside of work?” 

“I spend time with my daughter. She’s one of your students; Abigail Hobbs.” Hannibal said. Will took a moment to place the name to a face; if he remembered correctly, she was a rather quiet girl from his third period. Dark hair, freckles, always wearing a scarf. 

“Yes, I know Abigail. No kids for me, though.” Will said, though his dogs might as well have been his children. _Especially_ on the nights where he transformed and his grasp on human language would fog over, replacing itself with the barks and growls only fellow canines would understand. 

“Not everyone is ready for children. I adopted her very recently, and even at the age of seventeen, she can be a handful at times.” Hannibal sharpened his pencil as he spoke, the shavings dropping into a pile beside his canvas. He then brushed them into the trash can… One by one, meticulously. “I may seem like a bit of a hypocrite for telling you to socialize more… Seeing as I don’t leave my house nearly as much as I should, either.” 

“Most doctors can’t practice what they preach.” Will said with a shrug. “I doubt my dentist flosses three times a day.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “That is true.” he said. “By the way… Jack told me you were coming here on your lunch break. You’re free to eat in here in my office, but make sure to clean up any mess.” 

“I don’t have one today. I’ve been feeling nauseous.” Will said; it wasn’t a lie, after all. 

Hannibal smiled a bit, a slightly knowing expression in his eyes, but Will wasn’t quite sure why. “Well, I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Thanks. I'll be fine.” Will said. He glanced at the time on his watch; fifteen minutes left until lunch was over. He knew he should stay and chat more, since he hadn’t really gotten anything out of this forced conversation… But he also hadn't expected to, and he never promised Jack he’d stay for the _whole_ lunch period. Besides, he had a lot of papers to catch up on. 

“Anyway, it was nice talking to you.” Will said, pulling himself to his feet. “But I think I've said just about all I needed to. At least for today. But I'll probably be back tomorrow, because Jack will absolutely nag me if I don't.” 

Hannibal smiled. “I look forward to seeing you again." he said. 

As Will made his way out, Hannibal pulled out a notepad from beneath his canvas. He jotted something down as a reminder to himself, and then slipped it back into place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!!! comments and kudos are very much appreciated :D 
> 
> tw for mild blood/animal death in the very beginning

“ _Grrrrr…_ ” 

Hannibal froze where he stood. After a moment of hesitation, he turned around and wiped the blood dripping from his lips, meeting a pair of blue eyes reflecting right back at him in the darkness. Those eyes were attached to a salivating werewolf, looming just mere inches from his face. 

_’That scent…’_ Hannibal thought. This werewolf was familiar, yet he couldn’t for the life of him make out _who_ it was. 

Hannibal pulled himself up from the ground and closed up his suitcase. Then, he gestured to the dead buck laying at his feet. "It's yours." he said with a polite smile, stepping aside. "It may be a tad dry, however. I've taken what I needed, and I don't care for the flesh or marrow." 

The werewolf locked eyes with Hannibal for another few moments. Then, he turned to face the blood-drained deer, crouched down in the grass, and began to feed on its body. Hannibal couldn't help but crinkle his nose; once a werewolf's instincts kicked in, they had little to no control over their behavior. They fed as if their lives depended on it (which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely untrue), sloppily chewing and tearing into the flesh in a way that made Hannibal want to gag. 

If it had been anyone else, he'd have walked away already; yet the smell of this werewolf kept him planted right where he was. _Why_ was it so familiar? It could be anyone he'd encountered in the past year; in their werewolf form, however, they were unrecognizable. But from what he could tell, it was likely a male, one with dark hair by the likes of it... And murky blue eyes. 

"Enjoy your meal." Hannibal finally said, though he didn't expect a response. He adjusted his jacket, grabbed his suitcase, and began to make his way home.

* * *

Once Hannibal reached his house, he went straight to the bathroom to wash up. He despised how indecent he could be when his hunting instincts were triggered... The moment he laid his eyes on freshly killed prey, there was little that could stop him from sinking his fangs right in, drinking until his thirst was satisfied -- and only then would he finish his work, draining the rest of the blood and storing it away for future meals. The process was messy and unflattering, and tried his very best to prevent Abigail from seeing it. 

After cleaning his face and putting on a fresh shirt, he grabbed his suitcase and went to the basement. There, he opened up the freezer, and began to restock the plastic bags of blood he'd gathered during his hunt. 

"Hannibal?" Abigail called from the kitchen. 

"Just a moment." Hannibal said, placing the last of his bags into the freezer. Once he finished, he closed up the freezer and secured the lock, turning and heading back up the stairway. He shielded his eyes from the bright light in the kitchen, and Abigail quickly turned the knob to dim it. "Sorry." 

"No need to apologize." Hannibal smiled, rubbing his eyes as he saw spots in his vision. "Did your tutoring go well? You seem to be home early." 

“It was fine, but I’m not sure I’d call this early." Abigail said, glancing at the time on the stove; it was half past seven. 

Hannibal's expression fell. "I must have lost track of time during my hunt, then. Forgive me; I'll get to work on your dinner right away. Does eggplant parmesan sound alright? I already have the eggplant sliced and breaded.” 

"That sounds good." Abigail said with a smile, sitting down at the kitchen table and unloading her book bag. "How was the hunting, by the way?" 

Hannibal washed his hands before retrieving the ingredients from the fridge. "Inappropriate for your young mind, as always." he stated. 

Abigail rolled her eyes. "I've seen you lose control before. I'm sure you _telling_ me about hunting animals and harvesting their blood is tame compared to... that.” she said, opening up her text book. “Not to mention the whole situation with my dad. 

"While that may be true, it's not good for a child to dwell on such things..." Hannibal said, pouring some oil into a frying pan. "But there is one thing I’ll tell you. It was rather interesting…” he began. Though he was facing away from her, he could see Abigail’s expression brighten. “I shared a meal with a werewolf. He snuck up on me while I was feeding. Thankfully, I had no use for what was left of the poor deer, and offered him the rest.” 

Abigail tapped her pencil on the kitchen table. "A werewolf, huh?" she said. "Was it one of your friends?" 

"I don't know." Hannibal said, pulling out a sharp knife from the drawer and beginning to dice the tomatoes. "When a werewolf transforms, they look very different from their human forms. They can’t speak, either." Hannibal held his breath as he minced the garlic. "And they'll have no memory of having seen me." 

"Oh, I get it." Abigail said, resting her chin in her hand. "That's still cute, though. A vampire and a werewolf hunting together.” she added with a little smile. 

"Well, not quite. I'm the only one who did any hunting tonight." Hannibal chuckled. "He merely helped himself to the leftovers." 

"Hm." Abigail hummed in thought. "I can’t stop wondering who it is, though. I thought you were the only supernatural being in this town. Not sure how I feel about knowing there's a werewolf around." 

"They're far more unpredictable than vampires." Hannibal said. "But not necessarily any more dangerous. Don't go into the woods at night, and you'll almost certainly be safe." 

Abigail raised an eyebrow. "Almost?" 

"Nothing is certain." Hannibal said with a smile. He placed the fried eggplant onto a plate, and drizzled a generous amount of tomato sauce on top of it. "But you can be confident. Just like I'm confident that this eggplant turned out delicious, even if I'll never be able to safely taste it." 

Abigail moved her books aside to make room for her plate as Hannibal brought it over to her. "That was quick." Abigail said as she took a bite. "Do you ever miss food? Not just garlic, but normal human food in general?" 

"It's been far too long for me to even remember what it tastes like." Hannibal said. "I've become neutral towards food. At least the prospect of _eating_ it -- I will _never_ become neutral towards cooking." He pressed a kiss to the top of Abigail's head. "I wish I could keep you company while you enjoy supper, but I must get to scrubbing the blood out of my clothes before it dries." 

"That's fine. I was hoping to do some studying, anyway." Abigail said, gesturing to her text book. 

Hannibal forced a smile; the mere thought of Abigail doing her schoolwork _while_ eating dinner made his skin crawl. There was no way she’d be able to _properly_ enjoy the flavors while she had her nose stuck in a text book... But he was also grateful to have a daughter who cared so much about her studies, so he bit his tongue. 

Glancing back at her one last time, Hannibal left for the laundry room.

* * *

Hannibal reached for a tissue to wipe the graphite off from his hand, looking over the progress of the drawing on his desk. It was of an angel and a human; the former sitting atop a rock, reaching down to the angel who was kneeling on the ground, its wings injured. The position of the human’s arm, however, needed reworking. Hannibal grabbed his eraser to amend that. 

The grating school bell rang throughout the building. Hannibal glanced at the time on his watch; Mr. Graham would be joining him soon. He admittedly had some reservations about it-- he’d insisted to Mr. Crawford that he wasn’t equipped or _allowed_ to diagnose or treat whatever was causing Will’s change in behavior -- but ended up agreeing to have a chat with him, at the very least. 

Tossing the tissue into the trash can, Hannibal turned on the light switch near the door -- but not all the way. He kept the lights dim enough so that it would not blind him, but bright enough so a human could see. 

Shortly after that, Hannibal heard footsteps in the hallway just outside his door, followed by a quick knock. Hannibal pulled the door open and saw Will on the other side, his hand still raised up in a fist. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Graham." Hannibal said with a smile. Upon seeing the confused expression on Will’s face, he realized that he probably should not have answered the door so quickly. 

As he reached out to shake his hand, he caught wind of his scent -- and as he made eye contact, noticed a _very_ familiar pair of murky blue eyes. 

It clicked. 

Trying to hide the excitement bubbling up in his chest, he gave Will a polite nod. "Come in and have a seat."

* * *

"Anyway, it was nice talking to you," Will concluded, pulling himself up from the chair with a groan. "But I think I've said just about all I've needed to. At least for today." 

_’You certainly have.’_ Hannibal bit back a smile. 

"But I'll probably be back tomorrow, because Jack will absolutely nag me if I don't.” Will added. 

Hannibal nodded in understanding. "I look forward to seeing you again." 

Will simply mumbled an "mhm" in response, making his way out the door without another word. The moment the door clicked shut, Hannibal reached beneath his canvas and pulled out a little notepad. Grabbing a pen, he clicked it and scribbled down " _bring necklace_ " before slipping it back to where it was before.

* * *

The day came to a close; long after the students filed out of the school, and nearly all staff had left save for a couple of the janitors, Will had found he'd graded enough papers to justify going home. With a sigh of relief, he grabbed his keys, slipped into his winter jacket, and headed out into the darkening night. 

As he made his way out into the parking lot, he heard the faint pattering of paws on the concrete. If he was in his wolf form, his ears would have perked up. Will turned to the source of the noise and spotted a white and brown-speckled dog trotting towards him. It was a medium-sized mutt, though Will was unsure of its breed, and it had a collar around its neck with a leash dragging behind it. Once it approached Will, it yipped, and he couldn’t help but smile as he crouched down to meet it. 

“Hey, buddy. You lost?” he cooed, allowing the dog to sniff his hand before he pet it. He reached for the tag on its collar and squinted at the name. _Applesauce._

“Don’t get any ideas.” a familiar voice said; Will looked up and spotted Alana looming over him, grabbing the leash from the ground. “I know you like snatching up strays, but this one’s mine.” 

“Just saying hi.” Will chuckled, giving the dog a pet before himself back upright. 

“Do you carry raw meat in your pockets? I swear, it’s like dogs are drawn to you.” Alana said, smiling as Applesauce sniffed at Will’s shoes. “As soon as she saw you, she took off like she does when she sees a squirrel.” 

“Yep, you caught me. My pockets are filled to the brim with raw pork chops.” Will snorted, petting the dog on the head as she wagged her tail. 

Alana smiled. “So, what’s your plan for tonight?” 

“Go home, feed my dogs, and go to bed.” Will shoved his hands into his coat pockets. 

Alana tilted her head. “How riveting. Would you consider setting those exciting plans aside for tonight and going out with me and Beverly? We were thinking of having dinner together at her place. Not for super long, though, since it’s a school night and all.” 

Will’s stomach turned at that suggestion. Socializing _and_ eating were the last two things he wanted right about then. “Thanks, but maybe another night.” he said, giving Applesauce one last pet before turning back to his car. 

“You said that last time I asked.” Alana said, crossing her arms. “ _Tonight’s_ another night.” 

“It is, but not the right one.” Will clicked the button on his keys, and the lights on his car lit up. “I meant _another_ another night.” he added with a grin. 

Alana’s expression fell, and Will immediately felt guilty; especially after getting her hopes up so many times. But once he remembered how he’d feel once he came home to his dogs and went to sleep, his guilt immediately eased up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alana.” 

“See you.” Alana said, smiling sadly as she tugged Applesauce’s leash. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get you back home.”

* * *

“Hey, guys!” Will greeted as he arrived home, leaning forward to pet his dogs as they flocked him. As much as he was relieved to be home, though, he couldn’t help feeling a hint of disappointment; as he listened to them bark and yip, he wished he could understand what they were saying to him… But it was probably safe to assume it was along the lines of “Will’s home! We missed you!” 

_’I’m a canine for a few hours a month, and I’m better at that than even pretending to be human.’_ he thought to himself, sitting on the counter and letting out a sigh. Zoe trotted up to him with a rubber ball in her mouth. Will smiled, reaching for it and tossing it across the room. It squeaked as it bounced, and the old dog’s paws scuttled across the floor as she raced to retrieve it. 

Hannibal’s suggestion from earlier kept ringing in his head -- that he was lonely, and needed something other than dogs and work in his life -- and his regret towards turning down Alana’s invitation only deepened. 

Zoe returned with the ball in her mouth, her tail lashing eagerly. Will smiled, reaching down and lifting her up into his arms. _’Next time, maybe.’_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy the chapter!!! any feedback and comments are appreciated :3

The werewolf’s chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath, his limbs trembling as he ambled through the woods, leaving a pawprint trail of blood in the soil behind him. 

Whose blood it was, Will couldn’t remember. His body ached, and his neck ached too much to examine his body for wounds. Panting, Will just made it to the porch before he collapsed, whining as he hit the sharp edges of the stairs. 

_”Will?”_ a voice barked in the distance. 

_”Is he hurt?”_

_”Come on, let’s help him inside…”_

As the loyal dogs surrounded him, helping him back to his paws, he could feel himself gradually slipping out of consciousness. He leaned against Max, the largest of the family -- but even a mountain dog as large as him struggled to bear Will’s weight. 

_”Will? Wake up, Will -- we’re almost inside!”_

* * *

_Knock knock._

Will immediately bolted up from his desk. _’Did I fall asleep…?’_ Wiping drool from his face, he looked up and expected to see Jack in the doorway, getting ready to scold him -- but to his relief, it was only Hannibal. 

"Good afternoon.” Hannibal greeted with a curious smile. “Did you forget about your visit today? Or did you simply change your mind about seeing me?” 

Will sighed. “I guess I forgot.” he said, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the clock on the wall -- ten minutes until lunch was over. So at the very least, he hadn’t been asleep for too long… but he was still unsure _when_ he’d passed out. He hoped, at the very least, that it was _after_ the students had all left the room. “Well, that’s a lie.” Will corrected, turning his gaze back towards Hannibal. “I actually fell asleep.” 

Hannibal grabbed a chair, pulling it up in front of Will’s desk. “That’s alright. Accidents happen.” he chuckled, crossing his legs as he sat down. “We have a couple minutes, if you’d still like to have our meeting.” 

Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I would.” he said. 

"Anything in particular you'd like to talk about today?" Hannibal asked. As he spoke, he placed his hand on his pocket, as if making sure something was still there. 

"I guess I actually have something this time." Will said, resting his chin in his hand. 

“Is it the fact that you fell asleep at work today?” Hannibal asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. 

Will gritted his teeth. “No.” he said. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. Not worth psychoanalyzing.” 

“I’m not here to psychoanalyze you, though, remember?” Hannibal said. “We’re merely speaking to each other as friends.” 

Will narrowed his eyes, tapping his fingers against the desk. “It’s about something that happened last night.” he began. “Alana and Beverly invited me to hang out with them.” 

"Alana..." Hannibal’s expression looked uncertain. 

"Ms. Bloom. She teaches psychology. And Mrs. Katz is the band teacher." 

"Ah, correct." Hannibal said with an understanding nod. "You'll have to forgive me; as you probably know, this is my first year working in this building, so I'm still getting to know everyone's names." 

Will held back a smirk. At least he wasn’t the only airhead in the room. “Anyway. For whatever reason, I just couldn't bring myself to accept their offer… Even though I wanted to. And I knew that it would have been good for me. But it was like there was... a barrier blocking me from saying yes.” 

"How did you feel afterwards?" Hannibal asked. 

"Like shit." Will admitted, chewing on the cap of his pen. "I tried to play with my dogs to get my mind off of it, but I just couldn't stop thinking about it. And about what you said, about me needing to socialize with people outside of work.” 

"Understandably so." Hannibal said. 

Will rubbed his face. "I'm just... not good at being a human." he said, for lack of a better word. 

"I understand that very well." 

Will had an urge to growl, but he held it back. "...Do you, though?" 

A slight grin spread across Hannibal’s lips. He then glanced down at his pocket, retrieving a little black box covered in felt. He opened it with a _click_ , pulling out a thin necklace with a heart shaped pendant. 

"Hold this." Hannibal said, and before Will could ask why, he tossed the necklace towards him. It landed on his desk with a clink. 

Will stared at the necklace, and then at Hannibal. He watched him expectantly, waiting for an explanation -- but Hannibal only stared right back at him. Not left with much of a choice, Will reached for the thin metal chain. 

“ _Shit_!” 

Will immediately dropped the necklace. He examined the pads of his fingers -- two thin, red lines etched against his index finger and thumb. Sucking in air through his teeth, he glared up at Hannibal. "What the hell _is_ that?" he snapped, popping his finger into his mouth to cool it down. 

"A chain made from pure silver." Hannibal said; he seemed unfazed by Will's reaction, though, and he reached over to retrieve the offending object. "It was a gift I inherited from my mother." 

Will let out a sigh. He, admittedly, should have asked before he touched it; but how many people carried a _pure silver_ necklace around in their pocket? “Well, I'm allergic to silver." Will said. 

Hannibal tucked the necklace away and slipped the jewelry box back into his pocket. "I had an inkling." 

Will's heart began to pound, but his expression didn't change. "And… _what_ gave you that inkling?" 

Hannibal shifted his gaze down to Will's hand. At noticing the severity of the burn, he could see his amused expression fade ever so slightly. 

"I'm allergic to sunlight and garlic." After he spoke, he ran his tongue across his teeth, and Will could see his canines were far sharper than they'd been a moment ago. Only then did it click into place, and Will’s fear dwindled. 

So he _wasn’t_ the only monster in the area. It would explain a lot about Hannibal’s odd behavior, so he wasn’t _too_ surprised by that… 

"I also have a very keen sense of smell.” Hannibal continued. “We met the other night, but you likely don't remember." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bottle of antiseptic and some bandages -- he'd been prepared for this, it seemed -- and offered it to Will, who hesitantly accepted it. 

"Where did we meet?" Will finally asked, pouring a few drops of the liquid onto his fingers and hissing as it stung. 

"In the woods." Hannibal stated. "We shared a meal together." 

Will’s face burned with shame. Just more proof that he was far more competent as a werewolf than as a human -- yet his memory of it was completely fogged over. 

"I did all the work, of course.” Hannibal continued. “I know you weren't able to speak in such a beastly form, but I was hoping for a thank you." 

Will snorted. "Whatever it was you served up that night, thank you for providing.” 

"My pleasure." Hannibal smiled. "That said, I was hoping we could try it once more -- perhaps a night where you're in a more conversational state." 

"You’re going to burn me with silver…” Will wrapped his fingers in the bandages. “And then ask me on a _date_?” 

"Not quite a date. Unless you’d like it to be.” Hannibal chuckled. "Consider it more of an opportunity. It can be lonely, living as monsters among humans… As I said before, I know that all too well." 

Though he had many reasons to be skeptical of Hannibal, Will didn’t want to tell him no. At the very least, he’d had the excuse of feeding his dogs when he rejected Alana’s invitation the night before. The plans being made on such short notice didn’t help, either... But with Hannibal’s invitation, he had plenty of time to mentally prepare himself. And it was a Friday, too; he wouldn’t need to worry about work the next morning. 

"Alright." Will finally said. "My house, or your house?" 

"Neither. I was hoping to go for a walk together, actually. There’s a park near the library that’s rather quiet; we’ll have privacy there.” Hannibal said. “It will need to be after seven, however. Unless you’d like to have dinner together -- then you’re free to come to my house at six.” 

Will's hunger, admittedly, still hadn't fully returned. On top of that, he had a feeling that Abigail would be present, and eating dinner with one of his students would only be awkward for everyone involved. And with Hannibal subsisting entirely on blood… He was skeptical of his cooking skills, to say the least. “Seven is fine.” he decided. 

Hannibal plucked one of Will’s pens from the mug on his desk and scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note. "Seven it is, then. I will meet you at the entrance.” 

Will folded up the sticky note and shoved it into his shirt pocket. “I’ll see you then.”

* * *

The chilly autumn breeze ruffled Will’s hair, and he shoved his hands into his coat pocket to warm them up. As he walked through the park entrance, he spotted Hannibal right away -- he wore a black felt jacket, his hair slicked back neatly. At first, he didn’t acknowledge Will, his attention focused on a flock of ravens cawing and flapping their wings in the grass nearby. But as Will reached him, Hannibal finally turned around and his expression brightened. “Good evening.” he greeted. Noticing how cold he looked, he pulled a pair of leather gloves out of his coat pocket and offered them to Will. 

Will hesitated for a moment, remembering what had happened last time Hannibal took something out of his pockets; but he shrugged it off, accepting the offer and slipping them onto his hands. “Evening.” he finally said. 

“Are you ready for our walk?” Hannibal said, his breath visible in the chilly autumn air. 

“Yep.” Will said, and the two of them began on their way down the concrete path. 

“It can be difficult, you know, coming up with excuses not to go out during the day.” Hannibal began. “As a result, I often refrain from socializing altogether.” He let out a slight sigh. “It’s a shame that it causes depression and vitamin deficiency in some humans, but I quite enjoy the lack of sunlight in the winter months.” 

“Guess I’m fortunate that the light doesn’t affect me either way.” Will mumbled. He turned his gaze towards Hannibal. “How is Abigail?” he asked. 

“She’s doing well.” Hannibal said. “And fully human, if that’s what you were trying to ask. She’s very good at keeping secrets, too.” 

Will smiled. “You’re lucky she’s a teenager now. Was it harder to keep her mouth shut when she was younger?” 

“I’m not sure; I adopted her fairly recently.” Hannibal said. “But I think she kept her mouth shut about her biological father.” 

Will raised an eyebrow. “Why did she have to keep her mouth shut?” 

“He was a werewolf like yourself.” Hannibal clarified. “He’s not in the picture anymore, as you can tell. Abigail prefers it that way.” 

“Hm.” Will said; he admittedly felt anxious at the idea of encountering another werewolf during a full moon. Vampires were one thing, but he’d always found a slight sense of comfort in knowing he’d never have to fight over territory with another werewolf. “Is he still around here?” 

“No.” Hannibal stated. “As far as I’m aware, we are the only two non-humans in this town. Once I took Abigail under my wing, we moved far away from her old home. It held too many negative associations for her, and we both knew we would benefit from a fresh start.” 

Will felt a selfish wave of relief. As long as Hannibal was the only other monster in town, and they were on good terms, he felt a bit more secure. However… he had to be _certain_ that those terms were, in fact, good. 

“Do you feel territorial?” Will asked. “Werewolves have a tendency to fight over prey and territory; that’s why I was concerned about Abigail’s father. But I have a feeling vampires are different.” 

“Correct. Our instincts are very different.” Hannibal said. “And with that said… I feel it’d be beneficial for the two of us to stay together.” He glanced towards Will, a slight warmness in his expression. “We could hunt together. Perhaps grow closer in our friendship. There’s a sense of understanding we might not find among humans, but _could_ potentially find in each other.” 

Will snorted. “Just because we’re both carnivores doesn’t necessarily mean we’d make good friends. Put a mongoose and a wolf in a cage together, and tell me how that would play out.” 

“We have more in common than you think.” Hannibal said. “I can’t have human friends over for dinner. If I try to consume anything that isn’t blood, it simply won’t stay down. I can’t be in direct sunlight for more than a few minutes, or my skin will burn to a crisp. And God forbid someone prick their finger -- if I smell fresh blood while I’m hungry, I may lose control of myself.” He smiled sadly. “It makes for a rather pitiful social life.” 

Will, admittedly, could relate to Hannibal’s fear of losing control. “So we aren’t that different." 

Hannibal nodded. “Not by much.” 

"Still, though." 

A comfortable silence fell between the two, the only sounds being the crunching of leaves beneath their shoes and the singing of crickets. 

“Where do you get your blood?” Will finally asked. 

Hannibal gave Will a knowing look. “I haven’t drawn blood from a human in quite some time. Certainly not with Abigail around; she’s a very ambitious young lady, and if I were to get caught, the implications for her would be terrible.” 

Will inhaled. “You’ve killed someone before, then.” 

“Only when necessary.” Hannibal said. “And even then, I made sure it was someone who deserved to be eaten. Abigail’s father, for instance.” 

Despite his justification, however, he could sense Will was still uneasy. “But that’s irrelevant.” he clarified. “I _exclusively_ eat non-human animals these days. Mainly deer, or whatever other large mammals I can sink my fangs into.” Hannibal said. “How about you?” 

Will chewed on his lip. “Large mammals. To my knowledge, that is.” he said. “When I transform, my memory clouds over. I only remember bits and pieces of my hunting session by the time I’m a human again. I head out into the woods when it gets dark; I live in the middle of nowhere, and never stray too far, so my chances of ever having killed a _human_ are… fairly low.” 

“Low, but not zero.” Hannibal said. “But a smart choice, nevertheless.” 

Will fell silent again after that. 

“You’ll be hard-pressed to find a fellow monster who has never killed a human.” Hannibal continued. “Especially when you can’t guarantee you’ve never done it yourself. Besides, are humans not animals? Do the _non_ -human animals you consume not also have sentience, or feel pain when you feed upon them?” 

Will clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. He came to a halt on the path, and Hannibal did the same. “Is Abigail safe?” he whispered. 

“Safer than she’s ever been in her life.” Hannibal said, approaching Will. “I have no desire to eat her. She’s the main reason I have ceased consumption of human blood altogether.” He placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, and only then did Will turn his gaze up from the pavement. 

“You have a choice, here.” Hannibal continued. “You are free to view me as a heartless killer. You can even turn me in, and I spend the rest of my life in an institution. Abigail can go into foster care. But that gaping pit of loneliness growing within you will not fade -- unless you connect with a human being, or discover a fellow monster whose hands are cleaner than yours.” His hand drifted upward, gently grazing Will’s chin. “Alternatively, you could pretend this conversation never happened… Or, you can accept me for my past sins. You make a friend in the process. We hunt together. We keep each other company.” 

Will looked away from Hannibal's face again; yet at the same time, he felt disappointed as he pulled his hand away from his chin. 

“It’s a lot to spring on you at once. Perhaps that was unfair of me.” Hannibal admitted, smoothing out his hair. “I’ll give you time to ponder it. In fact, I encourage it. Hasty decisions are most often regretted.” 

Will placed his hand on the spot where Hannibal had touched him, his gaze still not meeting his face. He almost feared that if he looked into those eyes, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself away. “I’ll give it some thought.” he finally said. 

Hannibal nodded. “Please do.” he said. Sensing Will was feeling uneasy, he added, “Would you like me to walk you home?” 

“I’ll be fine.” Will quickly turned away, unable to even look in Hannibal’s direction, now. “I’ll see you on Monday.” Without another word, he turned and headed straight for home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for some gory stuff in the beginning 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!! comments and kudos are appreciated :3

Hannibal wiped the blood from his face, exhaling deeply as he regained control of his own body. As he opened his eyes, he saw that his clothes were covered in blood. _’That’s what I get for being careless..._ he thought with a sigh. _’If I had known it would come to this, I would have dressed for the occasion.’_

But now wasn’t the time to be vain. If the stain didn’t come out in the wash, he would simply buy a new shirt. And with each passing second, precious crimson liquid pooled beneath the two bodies lying before him, and he needed to act quickly -- lest he waste perfectly good blood. Grabbing his suitcase, Hannibal got to work. 

He began with the woman. Though he hadn’t intended for her to die, circumstances outside of his control led to her lifeless body laying before Hannibal; and while it was unfortunate, he certainly wasn’t going to let her blood go to waste, either. He retrieved his needle and gently slipped it into her wrist. 

“Don’t touch them.” 

The voice startled Hannibal; he turned around, meeting eyes with a trembling teenage girl standing in the doorway. She clasped a wooden stake in her hands and pointed it in Hannibal’s direction. 

“I’m very sorry about your parents.” Hannibal said as he rose to his feet. “I would have saved your mother if I had the chance. Your father, however…” 

“D-don’t touch them. Don’t touch _her_. Just go.” The girl’s voice wavered, trailing off into a fit of sobs. “Go!” she repeated, more harshly this time. 

Hannibal bit his tongue. The deed was already done, and nothing could fix that. Allowing her parents to bleed out wouldn’t honor their death any more than putting their remains to good use… He had half a mind to ignore her, knowing that he’d have the strength to defend himself if she came any closer with that wooden stake… But her sobs tugged at his heartstrings. 

“I will leave your mother be.” Hannibal finally said. “Your father?” 

The girl slowly lowered the stake, but her grip on it remained tight. She opened her mouth to speak, but words didn’t come out, as if she was uncertain. 

“I would give you more time to decide, but his blood is spilling rather quickly. Feel free to stop me once you make your decision.” Hannibal said. He turned, crouching down in front of the man’s body, and pulled the needle out of the mother’s arm, placing it in his instead. 

The girl didn’t say a word. As Hannibal pumped away the man’s blood, he could hear the young girl’s sobs begin to quiet down, her breath slowing until it returned to a normal rate. She sank down to her knees, and dropped the stake on the tiled floor. 

“I have sympathy for you, so I will not pressure you either way. The death of your mother was an unfortunate circumstance of tonight’s events.” Hannibal said, sealing up a plastic bag once it was full and sticking it into his suitcase. He reached for a new one, opening it and attaching it to the blood pump. “But regardless of whether I harvest her blood, she will not be coming back. In fact, using her remains for something good could even be seen as honoring-” 

“Shut up.” the girl said. Hannibal bit back the urge to scold her; he seemed to have struck a nerve, though he was uncertain how. But she was young and mourning, after all, so he wouldn’t hold her rudeness against her. 

Soon enough, the body was drained of its blood. He sealed up the last of his bags and placed it in his suitcase. After locking it up tight, he stood up from the kitchen floor and faced the young girl. He extended a hand towards her; the girl hesitated, staring at Hannibal for what seemed like forever, before finally grabbing his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. 

“Abigail, correct?” Hannibal asked, and she nodded after a moment of hesitation. “Do you have somewhere to go?” Hannibal continued. “I would gladly take you there. It’s the least I could do.” 

Abigail shook her head. “N… no.” 

Hannibal nodded in understanding. “Would you like to come with me, then?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

Abigail began to tremble, and she didn’t respond. She shied away from Hannibal’s touch, hugging herself. 

Hannibal retracted his hand once he sensed that she was uncomfortable. “I will give you time to mull your options over.” he said. Adjusting his collar, he turned to face the bodies lying on the kitchen floor. “But not much. A sudden and tragic change has come about in your life, and therefore you will have to make a relatively sudden decision. It is not an easy choice, and I will not sway you either way.” 

Abigail eyed the stake lying on the floor. She clenched her fists at her sides; then, she allowed them to fall loose.

* * *

“I’ll see you on Monday”, Will had said, and _damn_ , was he beginning to regret it. His choice of words had given himself an unnecessary deadline for his decision -- and it was now Monday, and no decisions had been made. Throughout the day, Will’s mind had repeatedly drifted back to his conversation with Hannibal, ruminating on everything he’d been left to consider. 

The lunch bell rang, and the students filed out of the classroom. Will knew Hannibal would be expecting him; though they’d clarified early on that he wasn’t _obligated_ to see him every day, he had reason to assume Will would be visiting him that afternoon. And yet, the mere thought of going down to that office made him sick to his stomach. 

But sitting alone in an empty classroom would only make his anxiety worse. So instead, Will went to the teacher’s lounge. For once, he felt that eating something would ease his nausea. He hadn’t bothered to bring lunch that day, but he knew there was a sort of community basket in the teacher’s lounge filled with abandoned non-perishables. 

“Hey there.” Beverly greeted the moment Will stepped in. To his disappointment, Freddie was standing beside her, leaning against the counter as she sipped at a bottled smoothie. “Not visiting your buddy today, huh?” 

“His buddy?” Freddie smiled. 

“Hannibal.” Beverly said. 

“No, not today.” Will said. He located the basket sitting on the far end of the counter, digging around in search of something edible. It was mostly expired granola bars, sleeves of crackers, cups of microwave noodles, and sauce packets from various restaurants; Will settled on a granola bar. 

“Does he freak you out, too?” Freddie asked. “Not to be rude, but I always found him kind of unnerving. Did you know he turns off the lights when nobody is in his office?” 

Will ignored her question. 

“Really? That's strange." Beverly said. "Maybe he's taking a nap." she added, and Freddie burst into laughter. 

“He reminds me of a vampire, honestly. Aren’t they nocturnal?” 

Will could feel Freddie’s gaze on his back. Not wanting them to notice his growing anxiety, he took a bite of the stale granola bar and grabbed a styrofoam cup, heading to the sink for some water. 

Despite his effort, Beverly noticed his discomfort. “You know we’re only joking, right?” she said, giving him a concerned look. 

“I’m not sure what part of that was a joke.” Will grumbled as he took a sip of water. 

“All of it, you goof.” Freddie said, walking over to the counter and rinsing out her bottle in the sink. Will tensed at her presence and grew more uneasy. "Obviously Hannibal isn’t a vampire. You, on the other hand…” She eyed Will’s shirt. “Could do a better job hiding that you’re a werewolf. Do you want to borrow my lint roller?” She plucked a stray dog hair from his sleeve. 

Before he knew what had happened, Will had already thrown his cup of water at Freddie and snapped, “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

Freddie looked down at her soaked shirt, and then turned her gaze up to Will with an expression that… was _far_ less affected than he’d anticipated. It was almost more frightening than if she’d gotten angry at him. 

“Will, what the hell?” Beverly grabbed a handful of paper towels and rushed over to Freddie. 

“I…” Will struggled to form words, his face burning with shame and guilt. “I’m so sorry, that was…” 

Freddie, however, could only laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll survive. I was pushing your buttons on purpose, so I can’t say I didn’t have it coming.” 

As Beverly helped Freddie dry her shirt, Will took a deep breath to calm himself. _’She was joking. Obviously.’_ he thought, feeling even more shameful as the reality sank in. He was safe -- well, he’d probably be in big trouble if news of his little outburst left the teacher’s lounge, but his _secret_ was safe. 

“I might have an extra shirt in my car. Do you want me to get it for you?” Beverly asked. 

“Aww, aren’t you sweet? I’d appreciate that, thanks.” Freddie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Beverly shot Will a glare before heading out of the teacher’s lounge. Freddie lingered for another moment, locking eyes with Will before following in Beverly’s footsteps. Once the door clicked shut, Will grabbed some paper towels to clean up the floor, tossing the now-empty cup and the remains of his granola bar into the trash can.

* * *

Will sank down into his bed sheets, the silky fabric cool against his bare skin. Pulling the blankets over his body, he let out a long sigh. “I’m getting worse at this.” 

He could see the dogs curled up in their beds; their ears were pricked to listen to his voice, even though they couldn’t understand his words. But Will found comfort in rambling to creatures who couldn’t respond, and in return, the dogs found his voice a soothing way to be lulled asleep; a symbiotic relationship. 

“I was never a very convincing human, even when I used to be one.” Will removed his glasses and placed them on the nightstand. “But turning into a monster was the final nail in the coffin.” 

Ever since he’d been bitten, monthly transformations became the centerpiece of his schedule. It occupied the majority of his thoughts, and yet his memories of those nights were scarce. And with all of the anxiety that surrounded it -- the fear of being caught, or inflicting harm on someone in his feral state of mind -- outweighed the thrill he found in hunting. 

“I’m not a human. But I’m not a dog, either.” he sighed. He went silent for a few more moments, struggling to admit the words that were hanging on the tip of his tongue… And Will soon decided that those words could wait, so he closed his eyes.

* * *

It had been an uneventful week for Hannibal. In between paperwork, he spoke with students about grades, scheduling, and stress regarding school and home lives; nothing particularly exciting, which he didn't mind in the slightest. Yet he couldn't shake off his disappointment, for not _once_ did Will come for a visit or even look in his direction.

Of course, it was no surprise to him. He'd had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing Will the Monday after their nighttime walk; or for the rest of the week, for that matter. And though he understood Will’s reluctance to see him again, Hannibal still ached to see him. 

As he began to pack up his things for the day, however, his disappointment was cut short -- for he caught a glimpse of Will in the hallway, and he was walking straight towards his office. His expression brightened. 

“Good afternoon.” he greeted. 

“Afternoon.” Will greeted, adjusting his scarf as he approached Hannibal. 

“What brings you to my office?” Hannibal said, placing his papers away in a folder. One by one, counting each and every one. 

Will observed this, a curious expression on his face. “I haven’t made any decisions yet.” he said. “Nothing _concrete_ , that is. But I would like to have you over at my house tonight, if you would be alright with it. Something like this is… deserving of more discussion before anything is set in stone. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Hannibal smiled warmly. “I do. Very much.” 

Will nodded. “I’ll text you my address. Seven thirty, like last week?” 

“That would be perfect."


	5. Chapter 5

The moment he pulled into the driveway, Hannibal noted the faint scent of dogs and the distant sound of barking. As he made his way up the steps of Will’s front porch, the scent only grew stronger. He was well aware that Will owned a few dogs, but from the various barks and mingling of varying scents, he had a feeling there were far more than he’d anticipated. 

Hannibal knocked on the door. He heard footsteps, and then the turning of a lock; he braced himself as a pack of dogs scampered out onto the porch, barking and lashing their tails as they surrounded him. 

“Good evening. Your pack seems rather excited to see me.” Hannibal observed as he counted the enthusiastic greeters; seven. 

“They’re always rowdy when someone comes over. I hope that doesn’t bother you.” Will scratched the back of his head. “But they always settle down after a few minutes.” 

“Not a problem at all. They’re giving me a warm welcome.” he said with a chuckle. As if to prove Hannibal’s point, the largest of the dogs jumped up and placed his front paws on Hannibal’s shirt, sniffing at him with curiosity. 

“Max, get down.” Will scolded, and the dog immediately obeyed. 

“You have them very well trained, too.” Hannibal added, wiping away the dirt Max’s paws had left behind. 

“For the most part.” Will said. He gave Max a pat on the head to assure him all was forgiven. He looked up at Hannibal again, stepping aside so the dogs could scamper back inside. “Want to come in?” 

Hannibal nodded gratefully, stepping into the house and allowing Will to shut the door behind him. The two of them headed into the dimly lit living room. 

“Are they a handful to take care of?” Hannibal asked. He went to sit on the couch, examining to make sure there wasn’t an excess of dog hairs, but to his relief, the cushions looked impeccably tidy. He spotted lint roller linings in a nearby trash can and smiled; Will seemed to have cleaned up a bit beforehand. 

“Sometimes.” Will sat down on the other end of the couch. “On the day before transformations, I can speak with them directly. So that makes for easier communication throughout the rest of the month.” He saw a smaller, long-haired dog standing in front of the couch and wagging her tail expectantly, and he scooted over and patted the cushion. “Come here, Ellie.” Will said. 

She leapt up and nestled herself between Will and Hannibal, resting her head in her paws. “I make their food from scratch.” Will continued. “I’ve asked them what their favorite meats are, so I prepare everything to their exact tastes. It’s a lot of work sometimes, but it’s worth the effort.” 

He reached down to stroke Ellie’s fur, and she rolled over onto her back so he could stroke her tummy. “Are you a dog person?” he asked. 

“I’ve always been a cat person, but I’m not opposed to dogs. Tell me as much about them as you would like; sharing your passions is the perfect way to build a friendship, after all.” Hannibal said. 

“Any other time I’d take that invitation. But not now, because that’s not what I really wanted to discuss tonight.” Will said. 

“What did you want to discuss, then?” Hannibal said, reaching down to stroke the dog sitting between them. 

“Earlier on this week, I had an… encounter with Freddie and Beverly.” Will began. “Mostly Freddie, if I’m going to be honest.” 

Hannibal nodded. Though he’d only known Freddie for a couple of months, his pleasant experiences with her were scarce. 

“She joked that you were a vampire.” Will continued, adjusting his glasses. “And then suggested that I was a werewolf. Afterwards, she _emphasized_ that it was a joke, and I’m pretty confident I believe her... If I had any reason to think she’d found out about our secret, I’d be worried about it. But I’m not. There’s no way she could have known.” 

Hannibal, however, wasn’t ready to brush off her remarks as mere jokes. The existence of vampires and werewolves wasn’t common knowledge among humans; people who believed in such things were in a small, often-mocked minority. But she could very well be a part of that minority. 

A vile thought crossed his mind; if she _did_ know, she could pose a potential threat to Will and himself. He momentarily wondered if there was some way he could lure her into his office, just long enough to sink his fangs into that neck… 

“But in the moment, I wasn’t so confident.” Will continued, snapping Hannibal out of his daydream. “I may have lashed out.” 

When he saw Hannibal’s expression change, he rushed to clarify, “Not _violently_. I just yelled and spilled some water on her shirt. Beverly was a little shaken by that, too, but I can’t blame her. She hasn’t spoken to me since. She’s not the type to hold grudges, and she wasn’t even the one I lashed out at, but… still.” 

Hannibal nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry that happened.” he said, placing a reassuring hand on Will’s shoulder. “That must have been very unnerving for you.” 

“I’m just glad it never left the teacher’s lounge.” Will said, shrugging away Hannibal’s hand. “Jack would’ve been pissed if he found out, and I’m already on thin ice these days.” 

“Perhaps. But I think he would have been forgiving.” Hannibal said, trying to hide his disappointment as he placed his hand back on his lap. “He seems to care for you.” 

“Hm.” Will didn’t know how to respond to that; so instead, he leaned back against the couch and decided to change the subject. “When were you transformed?” 

“A little under a century ago.” Hannibal said. “And you?” 

“I was bitten early on this year. A newbie.” Will said. “A whole century, though… You have experience.” 

“Yes, plenty.” Hannibal said. “Accepting my new self simultaneously became easier and more difficult over time.” 

“That isn’t what I needed to hear.” Will sighed. “I have enough hopelessness for both of us.” 

“Just because it is difficult does not mean it is hopeless.” Hannibal said. “With every path of life comes the struggle to accept where you’ve been placed. If I can adapt, there is no reason you won’t be able to.” 

“I’ve already spent so much of my life adapting.” Will said. “My whole life has just been a constant state of adaptation, but never feeling like I’m fully grounded… Being autistic and hating change only added salt to the wound. And before I became a werewolf, I already felt like a monster around others, struggling to keep my human suit from falling off.” 

Hannibal smiled sadly. “You didn’t have a human _suit_ back then; you simply were.” he said. “You took it for granted. And even if you had managed to find yourself back then, this change in your life has brought a self for you to discover… You may think you’re your true self on the full moon, but that isn’t true, either.” Hannibal glanced down at Ellie; as cute as she was, he wished she wasn’t blocking him from advancing even closer to Will. 

“And though your dogs are family to you, like humans, they may never fully understand you for who and what you are. You aren’t a human or a dog. And similarly, I am not a human or a heartless beast.” He turned his gaze back to Will. Knowing he may very well be rejected again, he reached for his hand. But this time, Will didn’t pull away. Hannibal allowed himself to grip him slightly. 

The little dog slipped out from between them. Hannibal silently thanked her for reading the room. He filled in the gap between himself and Will, but he still neglected to make eye contact; something Hannibal had noticed the moment they first met, but understood even more after Will had told him he was autistic. 

“I’ve already made my decision.” Will began. “Maybe I did the moment you told me who you were. Accepting it, however, is what I’m really struggling with.” 

“There is something blocking you from accepting me.” Hannibal said. “What do you think that may be?” 

“The idea that I may be a monster… That I may be a killer like you.” Will said. “I’ll have been lying to everyone I know.” 

“About what?” 

“About what I am.” 

“You already have been lying, at least to some extent. And you will continue to do so. Would it not be better to have someone you could confide in?” 

Will squeezed Hannibal’s hand. The vampire’s cold heart grew warmer as Will turned towards him, his murky blue irises reflecting slightly in the dim light of the living room. 

“...The next full moon is on the fifteenth.” Will finally said, allowing his eyes to fall back downwards. “It’s a Saturday, so we won’t have to worry about work. If the offer is still on the table, I would like to hunt with you -- but it’ll have to be here. I want to be with my dogs as much as I can that day, and once I transform, we can hunt in the woods out back.” 

Hannibal’s expression brightened. “I would love to. And if you don’t mind, I would like to come early in the morning. Preferably while the sky is still dark.” he said. 

Will nodded. He noticed that their fingers were still entwined, but instead of pulling away, he ran his fingers across Hannibal’s knuckles. For a moment, Hannibal could see uncertainty on Will’s face; but as they shared another brief moment of eye contact, he could see his expression soften, his hesitation dissolving into affection. Hannibal leaned in for a soft embrace, and Will did the same, pulling him into a hug.

* * *

“Good morning!” Beverly said in a tone of voice far too cheery for seven in the morning, strolling into Will’s classroom without so much as a warning knock. 

Will glanced up from the lesson outline on his desk; a slight wave of shame washed over him as he met eyes with Beverly, and he quickly shifted his gaze back downwards. “Can I help you?” he asked, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. 

“Yeah, I just need to use your printer before classes start. Mine’s all jammed up, and I waited until the last minute to print out these music sheets.” she said. 

Will felt a slight hint of annoyance; he knew for certain that Beverly hadn’t _just_ come here to use his printer. His classroom was on the second floor while hers was on the first, and there were at least ten other perfectly viable printers she’d passed up before coming to Will’s room. There was something else she’d come here for. “If I let you, will you tell me the actual reason you came all the way up here?” 

“Yeah.” Beverly said, tapping away at the keyboard and logging in to her email. “Guess I’m not subtle; I wanted to check up on you. How are you feeling today?” 

“Well, I was getting my lesson planned until you came in.” Will said. 

“Mhm. You had all weekend to do that.” Beverly teased, and Will couldn’t help but smile. “But seriously, I’ve seen you bitchy before, but never like _that_. What happened with you last week?” The printer in the back of the classroom began to whir, and music sheets churned out one by one. “Is Hannibal not helping you?” 

“I was having a shitty day, and Freddie was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hannibal had nothing to do with it.” Will took a sip of his coffee. 

Beverly sat on the edge of his desk. “Okay, good. Are you feeling any better lately, then?” 

“It isn’t something you need to be concerning yourself with.” Will sighed. 

“I guess not.” Beverly shrugged. “But I’m going to worry anyway, because I consider you a friend.” She walked over to the printer to retrieve her music sheets. 

Will couldn’t help a slight smile at that. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that.” he admitted, relieved to hear that her image of him hadn’t been _entirely_ tainted. 

“Oh, and I didn’t come here _just_ to annoy you and use your printer.” Beverly said. She reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a little red box. “Freddie wanted me to deliver something to you.” 

Will raised an eyebrow. He reached out for the little gift box in Beverly’s hand. “A gift?” 

“It’s her way of apologizing. She felt really guilty for pushing you over the edge like that.” Beverly said with a snort. “I tried to tell her she was overthinking it, but she insisted.” 

“Oh. Well… I’ll be sure to thank her next time I see her.” Will said, placing the box on his desk. 

The school bell rang throughout the building. “Guess I should be heading back to the classroom. See you later, alligator.” 

“See you.” Will opened up the little gift box as Beverly strolled out, and the sound of students filled the hallways. As he removed the lid, his heart sank down into his chest. 

Inside the small box was a metal cross -- whether or not it was silver, he was afraid to find out, but the way it shone in the light led him to believe it was. A slight nauseous feeling churned in his stomach as he ruminated over the previous week, and how he’d reassured himself that her remark had only been a joke… 

If it had been anyone else, he’d have taken the gift as a kind gesture… But to his knowledge, Freddie was very much _not_ a religious person, and her choice of a _silver_ cross was incredibly suspicious -- especially in combination with the “joke” she’d made at his expense the week prior. 

Underneath the cross was a folded up piece of paper. Will tilted the box so he could reach it without burning his fingers, carefully extracting the note and unfolding it. 

Written on the note was a URL to a website. Before Will could even think of typing it into his computer, students began to file in and seat themselves at their desks. Whatever that URL may lead to, it wasn’t something he’d want any of the students catching a glimpse of over his shoulder. 

Will folded up the note and placed it back in the gift box, stowing it away in one of his desk drawers. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his anxiety and racing thoughts about Freddie’s “gift” into the very back of his mind, shifting his mindset into that of a normal, non-werewolf, fully human high school teacher. Whatever was going on, it would have to wait. 

“Open your text books to chapter three.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter!!! if you're able to please comment, they make me very happy :3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some violence, slight gore, and animal death later in this chapter!

As Hannibal strolled through the hallways of the school, he gave a few smiles and “good mornings” to students walking past. Once he reached his office, he hung his coat up in the closet and locked the door. As he sank down into the chair behind his desk, he spotted a small gift box sitting near his name tag. Before he could even read the gift tag on it, he recognized the slightest trace of Freddie’s scent; it had been placed there very recently. Unsure of whether to feel flattered or concerned, Hannibal opened up the gift. 

It was a jar of minced garlic. Hannibal couldn’t help but laugh at the novelty of it all. An odd attempt at a threat, but he was amused by her effort regardless. And at the very least, it was a “gift” he could put to use. Next time he prepared dinner for Abigail, he wouldn’t have to mince the garlic by hand -- less time spent dealing with that foul smelling vegetable. 

As Hannibal went to return the jar to its box, he noticed a note sitting on the bottom. He pulled out the folded-up paper and opened it. Written on it was a string of words and numbers -- a URL, possibly? Curious, Hannibal (very hesitantly) started up his computer, carefully typing in the address and hoping that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be some sort of virus. 

Hannibal pressed enter. A page with a red background appeared on his screen, and at the very top, he could see that the website was titled “Cuspids". On this particular page was an article -- with Ms. Lounds credited as the author -- about a rumored vampire working at the local high school. 

_”A strange and reclusive man, Dr. Lecter spends most of his day in his office, the curtains drawn and the lights completely out; only when a student comes for a visit does he brighten those lights, and even then, he keeps them very dim. Nobody has ever seen him eat solid food. He has been seen carrying a metal thermos around, which is rumored to be filled with blood. But where exactly Dr. Lecter gets his blood is unknown.”_

As Hannibal skimmed the article, an amused grin spread across his face. It was certain, now: Freddie had seen him for what he truly was. And yet, he didn’t find himself worried at all -- if anything, he only felt growing eagerness for the opportunity that lay before him… 

Hannibal heard a knock at the door. He closed out of the website, heading over to brighten the lights before allowing in his first visitor of the day.

* * *

The lunch bell rang throughout the school. “It looks like our session is over for the day.” Hannibal said. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” He led his student to the door and held it open for them, sending them off with a slight pat on the back. The moment they were out of sight, he caught a glimpse of Will, hurrying down the hallway in his direction. 

“Good afternoon.” Hannibal greeted. “Have you come for a visit?” 

“Freddie knows.” he stated bluntly. _’No time for small talk, it seems.’_ Hannibal silently observed, stepping aside so Will could come in and shutting the door behind him. 

“So do I.” Hannibal said. 

Will raised an eyebrow. “Do you?” 

Hannibal reached into his desk and pulled out the jar of minced garlic, and Will immediately burst into laughter. 

“At least it’s in a jar. She gave me a bare silver cross.” Will huffed. “I nearly burned my finger on it. Did she leave you a note, too?” 

“She did.” Hannibal responded. “I’ve been reading her blog on and off throughout the day. Ms. Lounds a talented writer, you know.” 

Will scoffed. “Flattery isn’t going to make this any less dangerous for us.” 

“I didn’t think it would.” Hannibal said, seating himself at his desk. “But I am not particularly concerned about this, and neither should you.” 

Will seated himself across from Hannibal, locking eyes with him -- something he rarely did. “You aren’t concerned about this at _all?_ ” 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned,” Hannibal began, taking out his sketchbook from the drawer. “But overall, I am confident that Ms. Lounds won’t spread this info into the wrong hands. After all, Will, belief in the existence of vampires and werewolves isn’t common -- if she tells the wrong person, she may be seen as paranoid and superstitious. She has no proof, either. Her blog is entirely speculation and rumors.” 

Will leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “That’s true. But those gifts were clearly intended as some sort of threat, and we shouldn’t overlook that.” he said. 

“That is true, but there isn’t much we can do about it. Like Ms. Lounds, we also do not have any definitive proof that she intends to harm us. If we bring this up, we will only draw more unwanted attention.” Hannibal said. He sharpened his pencil and began to sketch. “Until we have more proof, we should not concern ourselves with this. Are you looking forward to this upcoming weekend?” 

Will seemed a bit annoyed at Hannibal’s attempt to change the subject, but didn’t protest it. “I am. I’ve always hunted alone, you know. My dogs always ask to come along, but of course I don’t allow that.” 

Hannibal smiled. “I wonder what they think of me.” he said. He heard the floor creak in the hallway -- he glanced past Will, and through the window of his door he caught a very brief glimpse of curly red hair. Hannibal could feel his fangs extending as the rage and hunger burned in his chest, but he turned his gaze back towards Will to ease his growing temper. “They are very sweet dogs. It’s a shame I can’t communicate with them in the way you do.” 

“I’ll gladly be your translator.” Will chuckled. “And I _know_ you said you won’t be worrying about it, but I will make sure to let you know if I see or hear anything else suspicious from Freddie.” 

“I appreciate that.” Hannibal said. 

Will tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair. “Well… Guess I should go, then. Don’t want to take up your whole lunch period.” Will said, pulling himself to his feet. 

Hannibal glanced up from his drawing. “You don’t have to.” he said. “I enjoy having you around. Don’t you know that?” 

“Oh. If it’s alright, then.” Will said, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I’ll stay in here, then. Or well, I’ll come back -- I need to fetch my lunch from the fridge.” 

Hannibal had momentarily forgotten that, unlike himself, Will still needed to eat normal food every now and then. “Right. I will be here; I have everything I need.” he said, gesturing to the thermos on his desk. 

Will smiled knowingly. “See you soon.” he said, and headed towards the door.

* * *

The Saturday of the full moon, Will awoke earlier than usual. Any other weekend he would take the opportunity to sleep in, but Hannibal would be arriving any minute and he intended to make a good impression. So at approximately 6:30, he pulled himself out of bed, showered, and changed into a comfortable flannel and a pair of jeans. 

_’You’re up early!’_ Winston greeted, among the chatter of “food!” and “I’m hungry!” from the other six dogs. 

“I have a guest coming over.” Will said, retrieving the container of his hand-made dog food from the fridge. 

_”Today? Isn’t there a full moon?”_ Jackson asked, tilting his head. 

“There is, but don’t worry. He knows what I am, and he’s a vampire himself.” Will said, scooping the food into their respective metal bowls. “He wanted to hunt together.” 

_”Was he that guy who came over here last week?”_ Max asked. _”No wonder he smelled so strange.”_

Will huffed. “All I could smell was his fancy cologne. I take it vampires have a different smell compared to humans?” 

_”I noticed it, too.”_ Ellie said. _”He smelled more… cold and stale, I guess.”_

_”Like a corpse.”_ Buster remarked. 

_”But it wasn’t a rotten smell!”_ Zoe clarified. _”Like a corpse, yes, but without the… rot… If that’s even possible?”_

“Huh.” Will couldn’t help but wonder, now that his canid senses were gradually kicking in, if he would also notice Hannibal’s unique scent when he arrived. He placed the dogs’ food bowls on their placemats, and as they all scampered over and dug in, Will decided he should get himself some breakfast as well. 

The day ahead of him was going to be energy-draining -- transformations wore him out like nothing else he’d ever experienced, and he had the hunger to show it. So he reached for a jar of peanut butter and a metal spoon -- something simple, yet dense in nutrients. 

As if on cue, Will heard a knock at the door. The dogs were far too invested in their food to storm the entry room as they normally did, so Will went to answer the door on his own. 

“Good morning.” Hannibal said, and Will couldn’t help but notice how lovely he looked in the dim light of dawn. Though the sky was still dark, there were hints of orange spilling in from the rising sun, which beautifully illuminated the maroon button-up he was wearing. 

Then, the scent; the dogs weren’t too far off, and though their description had made it sound unpleasant, Will actually found himself rather fond of it. He was cold, devoid of life… And yet it warmed Will’s heart. 

“Good morning.” Will finally responded, realizing how long he’d been staring as he noticed Hannibal tilt his head in curiosity. “Come in.” he added, stepping aside so Hannibal could come inside. 

“Thank you.” Hannibal placed his suitcase on the floor beside the couch. He caught a glimpse of the dogs in the kitchen, chowing down on their breakfast and wagging their tails, and then glanced towards Will, who was holding a jar of peanut butter in his hand. “...Is that your breakfast?” he asked. 

Will groaned slightly in pain as he sat down on the couch. “Yep.” 

“You’ll have to let me prepare a proper breakfast for you one day.” Hannibal said, seating himself beside Will. “Even though I cannot taste it, I _do_ cook for my sweet Abigail daily, and she always cleans her plate.” 

“Well, that’s a surprise.” Will said, dipping his spoon back into the jar of peanut butter. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m alright with what I have now. Need something dense in nutrients -- today’s going to be exhausting.” 

Hannibal tilted his head in curiosity. “Transformation seems to take a lot out of you.” 

“It _really_ does. Even the day before, I feel so… sore and out of it.” he said, rubbing his shoulder. “Who’d have guessed turning into a big, hideous monster would wear you out?” he joked. 

“Far from hideous.” Hannibal said. “Would you like a massage?” 

“You’ve only seen me once, and it was in the dark.” Will said. 

“If I had seen you in the daylight, my perception would have been more inaccurate.” Hannibal remarked. 

“Right, right. I momentarily forgot about vampire vision.” Will chuckled. “But yes, a massage might help.” 

“Shall I start with the shoulders?” Hannibal asked, gesturing for Will to sit down on the floor in front of him. 

“That’s perfect. It’s where the transformation starts, so it’s particularly achy right now.” Will said. He moved down and sat on the carpet, crossing his legs and seating himself between Hannibal’s knees. The vampire placed his gentle hands on his shoulders, gently kneading into his muscles. 

“Ah…” Will sighed with content, allowing his muscles to relax. Hannibal’s kneading started out soft, growing stronger with each movement, and if Will had any less shame he would have moaned. Every now and then, he’d feel Hannibal’s fingers run through his hair, stroking his dark curls that were still slightly damp from the shower. 

“Is this helpful at all?” Hannibal asked, and Will nodded. 

“It helps a lot. Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure.” he said, allowing a slight smile to spread across his lips.

* * *

After a day of chatting, spending time with the dogs, and relaxing together in Will’s living room, the sky had darkened, and Will and Hannibal were preparing for their night in the woods. 

Will looked himself over in the bathroom mirror, running his fingers across the fur sprouting from his shoulders, watching as it spread to his collarbones. He knew that he should be heading out, now -- completing his full transformation in the house was… a tad risky, and he didn’t want to deal with any damage he might do to his house or furniture. So after drawing in a deep breath, he stepped out into the hallway, bracing himself for whatever reaction Hannibal would have to his awkward, unattractive, half-transformed state. 

Hannibal was in the living room, checking through his suitcase to make sure he had everything together. The blood pump, his plastic bags, his gloves… It all appeared to be in order. When Will entered the room, he turned to look at him and his expression brightened. “Are you ready?” Hannibal asked, rising up to his feet. 

“I am.” Will said, eyeing the suitcase. “Is that where you store your blood?” 

“Correct.” Hannibal nodded. “It would be a bit of work, hunting for prey every time I needed blood; especially with the busy life I currently lead. So once a month, I spend a whole night hunting, storing away the blood in my freezer in pouches to drink later.” 

“Like a Capri Sun.” 

Hannibal’s expression was that of simultaneous amusement and disgust. Will couldn’t help but laugh. “Anyway, are you ready to go?” 

“Yes.” Hannibal said, allowing himself to smile just a bit. 

Before they left, Will glanced over to the dogs who were hanging out in the living room, and gave them a wave. “See you guys later. Stay safe, and don’t trash the house.” 

_”Stay safe, Will!”_ Harley said, wagging her tail. 

_”Have fun hunting with your friend!”_ Max added. 

_”And remember to bring me a rabbit!”_ Buster barked eagerly. _”You forgot it last time!”_

“Yeah, I'll try.” Will said. He glanced up at Hannibal, who was watching him with an amused expression; to someone who couldn’t understand his dogs’ responses, he probably looked rather silly. 

Shaking off his embarrassment, he continued towards the back door. As he tried to turn the doorknob, however, he struggled to get a grip, for his hands had already begun their transformation into paws. 

“I’ll get that for you.” Hannibal offered, holding the door open for Will. 

“Thanks.” Will said, blushing as he stepped out into the grass of his backyard. He felt the cool night breeze on his fur, and allowed himself to sink down onto all fours. 

Only when the moonlight shone on him did he finish his transformation. His entire body sprouted dark, thick fur, and his massive claws sank into the dirt beneath his feet. Yellow, pointed fangs protruded from his wolf-like snout, and a pair of deer-like antlers broke free from the crown of his skull. 

As he shifted from a human to a beast beyond recognition, Hannibal couldn’t help but watch with a loving expression on his face. His animalistic form was truly stunning to watch unfold… As he gazed upon him, he could only imagine the satisfaction of portraying him in his own artwork… The sharp angles of his claws and fangs, the details of his fur, his unique antlers… And only then did he realize he had been lost in his thoughts, and that Will was waiting for Hannibal to follow him. 

“After you.” Hannibal said, though he knew Will could likely no longer understand him. Regardless, the beast stepped ahead of him, padding into the thick foliage of the woods, Hannibal close behind.

* * *

The strong, earthy scent of deer grew stronger with each step they took. Hannibal noted the hoof-shaped footprints in the dirt, fresh enough that he knew their presence was recent. Their prey was close. 

He glanced over to his werewolf hunting partner, who had now shifted into a crouching position. Straight ahead was a buck and a doe, grazing together in a patch of grass, their flat herbivorous teeth crunching on acorns and leaves. 

Without warning, Will leapt at them like a dart -- a _bit_ hasty for Hannibal’s preference, but if he didn’t act now, the prey Will didn’t sink his teeth into would get away, and they surely couldn’t have that. So Hannibal leapt forward as well. 

Sharp fangs sank into the flesh of the trembling buck’s neck. It attempted to run, but Hannibal’s strength held it right in place. Hannibal’s eyes fell shut as he drained the creature of its blood, the delicious metallic taste filling his throat. 

Will was far less graceful, growling and shredding the doe’s body to pieces. And though he found it barbaric, Hannibal couldn’t look away, his eyes locked on the sight of Will -- the once innocent school teacher, now a hungry and feral monster -- snarling and thrashing, his teeth caked with blood and saliva, the moonlight illuminating the bloodbath taking place before him. Lost in his thoughts, Hannibal was taken back to reality as he felt the deer twitch beneath him, and he sank his teeth back into its jugular. 

Only after Will had mangled the poor creature beyond recognition did he settle down to feast on its butchered body. A distant howl echoed through the night, and Will momentarily lifted his head up from his prey to do the same. 

Once he’d had his fill of blood, Hannibal released the deer’s neck from his mouth. He then retrieved his suitcase, placing the needle in the puncture his fangs left behind, and he drew the remaining blood from its body. 

Now, the two sat side-by-side in peace. The chirping of crickets and clicking of bats filled the night. As Hannibal drained the buck of its remaining blood, his eyes remained on Will. 

A flash of light came from behind Hannibal. Will dropped the bone he’d been gnawing on, and Hannibal immediately turned his head. 

Nobody was there. But they could hear the sound of crunching leaves; somebody was running. 

Hannibal leapt to his feet and began to sprint. As he crunched through the foliage, he followed the scent of the running human -- a mixture of perfume, leather, and of course, Freddie Lounds herself. 

To his surprise, Will had outrun Hannibal and was right on her heels. But before he could leap, she turned around and pepper sprayed him in the face. Will let out a cry of pain, hacking and retching as he cowered away from Freddie with his tail between his legs. 

Trembling, the woman leaned against a tree to catch her breath. Fortunately, unlike a human’s body, Hannibal’s had very few limits, and he continued to advance towards her. 

As if she hadn’t even seen him coming, Freddie flinched as she spotted Hannibal and raised up her pepper spray, but Hannibal snatched it from her hand and threw it in the nearby patch of poison ivy. Then, he pinned her against the tree by her neck. She struggled beneath his grip, her eyes locked with his as she scrambled through her pockets in search of something -- some garlic, or perhaps a crucifix, Hannibal presumed. So instead, he grabbed her by the wrists. 

“That was _incredibly_ rude of you, Ms. Lounds…” Hannibal eyed the veins on her wrists. Then, he looked her in the eyes. “What’s to be done about that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, because i certainly had fun writing it! any comments are greatly appreciated! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for some blood/violence!

Will awoke on the carpet of his living room. For the first few moments of consciousness he struggled to pry his eyes open, feeling a sharp sting whenever they were exposed to the light. Once Will forced himself up from the ground, he rubbed his face with his sleeve and let out a pained groan. 

He dragged himself to the bathroom and made a disgusted expression upon seeing his reflection in the mirror. His face was covered in blood, dirt, and… God knows what else. And to top it all off, his eyes looked as if he'd spent the whole night crying. _’What the fuck happened?’_

At first he wondered if he’d been sprayed by a skunk, but he didn’t have that distinctive musky scent on him, so that was unlikely. Regardless of what may have assaulted his eyes, he needed to clean himself up, so he turned on the faucet and scrubbed the grime away from his face. 

Once he was finished, he stepped out of the bathroom as he dried his face with a towel. “Hannibal?” he called. He’d expected his guest would have spent the night at his house after their hunt… But it was never something they’d outright agreed on, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized Hannibal had likely gone home, and that the idea that he would’ve stayed was just wishful thinking on his end. 

Winston’s nails clicked against the floor as he scampered into the living room. Will smiled and ruffled the fur on his head, wanting nothing more than to speak to him like he’d been able to the previous night… Maybe _he’d_ have some sort of clue about whatever had happened to his face. 

He eased himself down onto the couch, rubbing his sore back as he tried to recall _any_ memories of his hunting session. Only glimpses of it lingered -- howling, the meaty taste of the doe’s flesh, and the comforting presence of Hannibal by his side… 

Laying back against the couch pillows, Will let Winston curl up at his side. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, seeing a string of missed calls and texts. At the very top was a text from Beverly, which read: _”hey, have you heard from freddie at all tonight? we were supposed to meet up and i haven’t heard from her. she’s not answering my texts or calls. getting a little worried. :(“_

Will swiped the notification away and went to his contacts, searching for Hannibal’s name.

* * *

“You were rather fortunate tonight.” Hannibal remarked. Freddie glared at him with a hardened expression -- not that there was much else she _could_ do when her mouth was duct taped and her hands zip tied to a chair. 

“If I hadn’t just finished feasting on a buck’s blood, I would have drained you of yours right then and there.” Hannibal continued. He put together his blood pump and turned to Freddie, tapping the needle against his palm. “And I didn’t have enough room in my suitcase, either… Nearly all of my plastic bags were full. But I would _never_ let a fresh source of blood go to waste.” 

Freddie’s eyes lowered. Though her expression remained unchanged, Hannibal could smell the fear in her sweat. He ran his tongue across his lips. “However… Before I stock my freezer with your blood, I _must_ have a taste. It’s been ages since I’ve consumed _human_ blood, you know. Do you know your type, by any chance?” 

She gave no response, but Hannibal didn’t expect one. 

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out. I remember B blood types being sweeter than the others… A shame they’re so uncommon.” Hannibal grinned, his fangs glistening in the dim light of the basement. But Freddie still refused to look at him, so he tilted her head upwards for her. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” Hannibal asked. “To see me for what I truly am? You should be thanking me, Ms. Lounds… You’re going to see an ugly side of me that very few have witnessed... Consider this a gift.” 

For the first time since he’d dragged her home, Freddie reacted. She turned her gaze upwards and muffled a strained “fuck you” from beneath the duct tape. 

Hannibal let out a soft chuckle. “ _That’s_ the Freddie Lounds I know.” he whispered. Without any further warning, he leaned in and sank his fangs into her soft neck. The savory crimson liquid filled his throat, and his eyes fell shut. 

A sudden spritz of scalding water splashed against Hannibal’s face, and he released Freddie from his grip. He fell down to his knees with a pained _hiss_. 

Once she’d processed what’d happened, Freddie gazed up at Abigail, who was shakily aiming a spray bottle at Hannibal. 

“Are you… Are you _kidding_ me?” Abigail’s voice wavered as she aimed the squirt bottle in Hannibal’s direction.. Hannibal scrambled to wipe the holy water away from his face, his skin sizzling. 

“You promised you wouldn’t do this shit anymore, and now you’re trying to _kill my English teacher?_ I am _not_ moving across the country in the middle of my senior year, Hannibal! I’m not starting over again! Once was already too much! What is _wrong_ with you?” 

“Where…” Hannibal began as he rose to his feet, glaring at Abigail with an expression of pure rage, “...did you get _holy water_?” 

Abigail’s expression fell for a moment, Hannibal’s tone of voice visibly shaking her. But she regained her confidence almost immediately, swallowing before she responded, “I’ll answer that when you tell me what you were doing to Ms. Lounds.” 

“She threatened our saf--” 

“The only threat to my safety right now is _you_!” Abigail pointed the spray bottle at Hannibal again, causing him to flinch like a startled cat. Despite the gushing wound on her neck and her lightheadedness from blood loss, Freddie snickered from behind her duct tape. “You... promised me you wouldn’t do what dad did.” 

“Abigail…” Hannibal began, but before he could continue, she was already grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting the zip ties from Freddie’s wrists. 

“Can you stand?” Abigail asked once she’d removed the tape from Freddie’s mouth. 

“Yes, thank you.” she responded, using Abigail as support as she rose from her chair. 

“Where’s the first aid kit?” Abigail asked. 

Hannibal’s eyes were locked on Freddie, eyeing the stream of blood running down from her neck. The scent of it filled his nose, encouraging the growing hunger in his stomach… And then he processed that Abigail had asked him a question. “Under the sink in the upstairs bathroom.” he stated. 

Abigail led Freddie up the basement stairs. Once they were out of sight, Hannibal wiped some of the blood from his chin and licked it from the pad of his finger, savoring the sweet metallic taste on his tongue before swallowing it. B negative.

* * *

Though Abigail was normally well-behaved, she had a foul mouth that only came out during heated conflicts, and there was no taming it; so Hannibal knew it would only be best to give her some space. After an hour had passed, he’d felt that was sufficient time to pull herself back together, and he made his way up the stairs. 

Once he reached the hallway, he could see that the light was on in the guest bedroom -- and it was brightened all the way. Perhaps it was a way of deterring Hannibal from coming in, but it wasn’t successful, because he continued down the hall and knocked on the door. 

No response. 

“Abigail?” Hannibal said. 

“What do you want?” she snapped. Hannibal let out a sigh. It seemed he hadn’t given her quite enough cooling-down time. But his patience was running thin, so he opened the door and dimmed the lights. 

Freddie and Abigail were sitting side-by-side on the guest bed. Freddie’s neck bite had been bandaged, and her face was still slightly pale. Abigail had her phone in her lap, face-down, glaring at Hannibal. “What?” 

“I just wanted to check up on you two.” Hannibal said. He turned his gaze towards Freddie. “I owe you an apology. How are you feeling?” 

“I’ve been better, but considering I almost just _died_ , I could be far worse.” Freddie chuckled, rubbing the bandage on her neck. 

Hannibal nodded. “I am very sorry for what happened tonight, Ms. Lounds. My instincts got the best of me, and though it is something that can happen to any vampire -- I am no exception -- it was no excuse for my behavior.” It was a lie, of course -- though he’d been a tad reckless, he was by no means _starving_ for blood, and his plans for Freddie that night had been entirely calculated. But admitting that would only make the situation worse for everyone involved. 

“Hmm…” Freddie smiled. “Forgiveness takes time and work. But you know, despite the absolutely ruthless act you just pulled, you opened up an interesting opportunity for me.” 

Hannibal held back a sigh; he missed the cowardly, silent Freddie who’d been tied up in the basement. “And how is that?” 

“If you kill me, you will likely face legal consequences. And if you don’t kill me, I could tell everyone what happened tonight, with the photos to prove it all. Not everyone would believe me, but enough for it to impact both you and Abigail’s lives -- and again, potential legal consequences. A lose-lose situation on your end.” Freddie tapped her fingers against the bed frame. “So now that you’re in a more sensible state of mind… what are you planning to do with me?” 

“If you kill her, I will _never_ forgive you.” Abigail said through gritted teeth before Hannibal could answer. 

“I won’t be killing anyone tonight.” Hannibal stated. “As Ms. Lounds said herself, I am in a more reasonable state of mind right now. I don’t think I’d be able to kill her even if I wanted to.” Again, a lie. But if this was the Freddie he knew, there was a fair chance she had some kind of scheme boiling up in her mind. “There’s something you want from me, isn’t there?” 

“Mhm. I know how to keep a secret, and I’m willing to do it if there’s something in it for me.” Freddie said, leaning back against the pillows of the guest bed. “I’ll need to think it over, though, before I decide exactly _what_ it is I want. I’m feeling a bit lightheaded, and I’m sure you can understand why.” 

Hannibal forced a smile. “You are free to spend the night here if you are feeling unwell.” 

“How generous of you.” Freddie said, the sarcasm heavy in her tone. “Can I have my phone back, now? I had a date planned with Beverly, so I’d like to let her know why I didn’t make it.” 

“Only if you delete those photos you took of me and Will.” Hannibal said. 

“Mm. Can’t do that.” Freddie said. “I’d rather worry my girlfriend than give up perfect blackmailing material.” 

“Then your phone will be staying in my room tonight.” Hannibal said. He turned his gaze to Abigail. “May I have a word with you?” 

Abigail appeared as if she wanted to say no, but she didn’t. She rose from the bed and followed Hannibal out of the room, shutting the door behind them. 

“Are you alright?” was the first thing Hannibal asked. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, and offered her a handkerchief to wipe them away. 

“I don’t know.” Abigail said. She hugged herself and stared at the ground. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” Hannibal pulled her into a gentle hug. Abigail didn’t protest, and in fact buried her face into his shoulder to cement that his affection was welcomed. “You witnessed an ugly side of me that I never wanted you to see again. You deserve much better than that.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking into her eyes. “Will you forgive me?” 

After giving herself a moment to think, Abigail nodded. She buried her face back into Hannibal’s shoulder and allowed her eyes to fall shut. 

“No matter what it takes, I will do what I can to keep you safe. I promise I will be more careful from now on.” he said, and though he’d told his fair share of lies that night, his words then were as sincere as could be.

* * *

Once morning came, Hannibal headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Abigail -- and reluctantly, Freddie. Cinnamon french toast with strawberry syrup, sausage links, hash browns, and hand squeezed orange juice. On Sunday mornings it was routine to prepare a big breakfast for Abigail, but after the rough night she’d had, he wanted to make something _extra_ special. 

Just as he finished assembling their plates (excluding the sausage on Freddie’s, who he’d learned at the last minute was a vegetarian), Hannibal heard a knock at the door. He glanced back at Abigail, who was seated at the kitchen table with her phone. “Stay here.” he instructed. 

As he approached the door, he attempted to make out the scent of his surprise visitor. Knowing Freddie, she may have snuck into Abigail’s phone and called the police. Doors had a tendency to muffle scents, however, but to Hannibal’s relief he caught a glimpse of Will from beyond the window. 

Hannibal opened the door with a smile on his face. “Good morning, Will.” 

“Morning. Did you get my text messages? I even tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.” 

“I did not, unfortunately. I was busy cooking breakfast, and I may have left my phone upstairs.” Hannibal said. “Is there an urgent matter at hand?” 

“Possibly. Beverly called me and said that Freddie is missing.” Will said. “Do you know anything?” 

Hannibal tapped his fingers against the doorframe. He’d pondered the situation on and off throughout the night, contemplating whether to tell Will what had happened… Knowing Will’s reluctance to accept Hannibal’s dark past, he had considered it would be best to keep it a secret, but if he -- 

“Hey, Will. Hannibal’s holding me hostage right now. Care to join us for breakfast?” Freddie said, waving to him from the living room. 

And that settled that. Hannibal clasped a hand over his face. 

“Uh...?” Will turned to him with a concerned expression. 

His expression unchanged, Hannibal drew in a deep breath. “Perhaps you should come in, Will.”

* * *

Will seated himself at the table beside Hannibal; across from him sat Abigail, and beside her was Freddie. Despite apparently being held hostage, she looked confident and at ease. Hannibal served the steaming breakfast to Abigail and Freddie -- but of course, none for himself, and a simple glass of water for Will, who currently lacked an appetite. 

“I made a mistake last night.” Hannibal said once everyone was settled in. “I acted recklessly. I’m sure I don’t need to do any explaining.” 

“You do, actually.” Will took a sip of his as he eyed the bandage on Freddie’s neck. “You asked me to forgive your past sins, but they’re _scathingly_ present right now, Hannibal.” 

Freddie smiled from behind her glass of orange juice, but Hannibal kept his composure. “You may not remember, Will, but she approached us last night and took photos of us without our consent. And in that moment, I wasn’t entirely in control of my instincts. The scent of fresh blood will do that to a hungry vampire, and we were both covered in it.” 

“And then you dragged me home and sank your teeth into my neck.” Freddie said. 

“I did, and I regret it immensely.” Hannibal said. “However, Freddie is allowing me -- or _us_ \-- to make a compromise… Correct?” 

Freddie chuckled. “Mhm. And I have finally decided what exactly it is that I want to pry out of you two.” She glanced at Will. “ _Both_ of you. If either one of you doesn’t agree to my compromise, your secret will be out to the public.” 

“And what is that?” Will asked. 

Freddie rested her elbow on the table. “Does it even need to be said?” she teased. “I want to know everything. About vampires _and_ werewolves. I want to use the photos, too -- but I’d blur out your faces, of course. Or I could retake them; in fact, you might want me to, Will, since you don't look very flattering.” 

Will growled, but Hannibal's expression remained unaffected. “I suppose I do not have much of a choice. If you stay true to your promise, and keep all information anonymous… It is worth it, especially if it means protecting my daughter’s future.” he said. He glanced towards Abigail, who had been keeping silent, her gaze lowered down to her plate. 

“Uh. Do I not get a say in this?” Will asked. 

"I am not fond of this compromise, either, but it is a fairly small price to pay to keep Freddie’s mouth shut." Hannibal said. 

“So I have to let Freddie invade my privacy because you couldn’t control yourself last night. _You_ made this bed, Hannibal. Why should I have to lie in it?” Will snapped. 

“ _Freddie_ is the one blackmailing us, Will. I'm not the one in control here.” Hannibal’s patience was thinning. 

“Also, you _did_ try to attack me last night.” Freddie pointed out. “You probably don’t recall, but I bet your sinuses remember the pepper spray.” An amused smile spread across her lips. 

Will looked as if he wanted to snap something back, but he held his tongue. He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Only once he’d cooled down did he speak again. 

“Fine.” Will finally said. “Do whatever you want. Interview me, take pictures of my fucked up werewolf form, make fun of me, even. But if you give even the _slightest_ hint of who I am…” 

“Nobody will know.” Freddie said. “Besides, my readers like speculation. Giving away your identities would ruin the fun. The articles I’ve already written about you two were nothing more than journalist gossip. And while these more… _informational_ articles will be a little different, I will do everything in my power to ensure it’s anonymous. I swear on my life.” 

As much as he wanted to distrust her, Hannibal could see sincerity in her eyes. He turned to Will, who wore an expression of hesitant acceptance. 

“Do we have a deal, then?” Freddie asked. 

“I think we do.” Hannibal said. “Will?” 

Will let out a defeated sigh. “I suppose we do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!!! i appreciate any comments and feedback! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a lot of fun for me to write :3c hope you enjoy!

With everything settled and their agreements made, Freddie was finally allowed to head back home. Will, however, wasn’t content leaving Hannibal’s house just yet, and so he lingered in the living room as Hannibal sent Freddie off. Only once the door was closed did Will address him. 

“Do you trust her?” Will asked. He leaned against the doorway to the entry room, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Hannibal. 

Hannibal glanced over to Abigail, whose eyes were locked on Will with a somewhat fearful expression. But once she acknowledged Hannibal, he turned his gaze towards the staircase and back to her. Abigail seemed to take the hint, and she headed upstairs. 

“I wouldn’t bet anything on Freddie staying true to her promise.” Hannibal only responded once she was gone. 

“And yet you’ve put our lives in her hands.” Will sighed. 

“Not necessarily.” he said. He stepped past Will and wandered into the living room as he continued. “If she fails to uphold her end of the deal, I have plans to keep all three of us safe.” 

“You sure have done a lot of planning without me.” Will scoffed. 

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Hannibal said. 

“I just…” Will rubbed his face, his eyes still burning from the pepper spray. “I should have seen this coming. That was on me. And don’t lie to me, because I _know_ those weren’t your instincts last night. You didn’t slip up.” 

Hannibal’s expression was unchanged. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Your actions were calculated.” Will said. “I’m not stupid, Hannibal. You weren’t out of control. You weren’t starving for blood, because we’d feasted together. My memories of the night are vague, but that is one thing I’m certain of. You were in control of yourself, and you fully intended to kill Freddie.” 

Hannibal averted his gaze, but Will still managed to read his expression. He was uneasy, that was for certain, and possibly contemplating whether to admit the truth or continue with his lie. Those dark eyes softened, and returned to Will’s face. 

“You’re right.” Hannibal said. “So what are you planning to do? Do you intend to turn me in?” 

“I don’t.” Will said. 

Hannibal’s smile was unsurprised, as if he’d _known_ Will would say that in response. Irritation burned in Will’s chest. He turned away from him and walked toward the couch. “I have nothing to gain from turning you in. Your daughter would be devastated. And by the looks of it, you aren’t going to have a chance to kill anyone anytime soon, with Freddie more or less holding a gun to your head.” 

Hannibal nodded. “I felt compelled to kill her because I feared what she would do to us.” he said, walking over to the window. He pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the minimal sunlight that had begun to shine in. “Even when I was hunting humans regularly… It was never purely for the sake of cruelty. It was a necessity.” 

Will sank down onto the couch. “What is your plan, then? If she doesn’t keep her end of the promise, that is.” he asked, though he was fairly confident he knew what the answer would be. 

Hannibal hesitated for a moment, twirling the drawstrings of the curtain around his finger before letting them fall loose. “We run.” 

Will’s expression fell. _That_ wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “Run?" 

“Run away from here and start fresh.” Hannibal continued. “Abigail would be furious. It’s what we had to do when I first took her in as my own, and I promised her we would never have to do it again… But our safety is more important than a promise.” 

Will let out a pained laugh. “When I consented to your friendship, I didn’t know I was also consenting to potentially uprooting myself.” 

“You weren’t. That was my mistake. If there’s anything I can do to help you forgive me, I would like to know.” Hannibal said as he approached the couch. Will initially assumed he was being sarcastic, but as he looked at his face and saw the sincerity in his expression, he accepted his words as genuine. 

“...Thanks.” he said, moving over so Hannibal could sit beside him. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.” 

“Please do.” 

The two of them sat together in silence. Will closed his eyes, paying attention to his breathing, waiting for his anger to dwindle to a more stable level before he spoke again. 

“If the worst case scenario happens,” Will began, “would I be running with you?” 

“Of course.” Hannibal said. “Why wouldn’t you?” 

“As in… we live together? Or…” 

“If you’d feel alright with it.” Hannibal said. “Would you?” 

“If the circumstances came down to it, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” Will said. Any other answer would have been absurd. “At least temporarily. I prefer living with dogs to people, as you can tell.” 

“I understand completely.” Hannibal said with a smile. 

“But let’s hope it _doesn’t_ come down to that. I’d prefer to stay where I’m at now.” Will clarified. 

“Yes, of course.” Hannibal nodded in agreement. “Freddie may very well keep her secret. But it’s better to plan ahead for the worst case scenario, should she reveal who we are to the public.” Hannibal crossed his legs, watching as Will shut his eyes once more and began to slow his breaths. “You don’t seem very reluctant about the idea of potentially running away with me.” Hannibal continued. “Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t really have any choice, do I?” Will said. 

“You do.” Hannibal said. “From the very beginning, I’ve wanted you to have autonomy. I let you choose to be a part of my life. And though my impulsive actions from last night may have… limited your freedom, I deeply regret it, and I want to make it up to you.” 

Will let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes. “I have every reason to hate you right now…” he began. “But I don’t. I’m pissed off, but that's different. You wanted me to make my own choices, but I almost feel like I can’t. I want to hate you, I _should_ hate you, and yet…” He trailed off. 

Hannibal slightly tilted his head. “Why do you think that may be?” 

“Because…” He paused for a moment to swallow, debating whether he actually wanted to admit this. But he’d already begun, and Hannibal was watching him expectantly. “Despite everything, you’ve made me feel like I’m not alone.” Will admitted. “And… I don’t want to lose that. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt close to someone… Maybe I have nothing to compare it to, and maybe I’m just a lonely freak who’s receiving someone’s attention for the first time, but…” 

Will trailed off as Hannibal’s hand grazed his shoulder. He retracted it upon seeing Will flinch and smiled apologetically, but Will gently grabbed his wrist and guided it back towards himself. 

“You spent the whole day with me yesterday, listening to me talk to my dogs like some kind of freak. And when you saw me as that _ugly_ monster… You didn’t change your expression at all. Didn’t look at me any differently.” he said, gently running his fingers along Hannibal’s knuckles. “I felt…” There was a word on the tip of his tongue, but he refused to say it. 

“I felt it too.” Hannibal said. He moved himself closer to Will, slipping his arm around his waist and pulling him close. 

And despite how much he loved Hannibal’s touch -- as if he was a banquet and Will was a stray that hadn’t been fed in years -- he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Something about it just felt foreign, something that needed to be extracted. Hannibal seemed to pick up on this, which Will was thankful for, and he pulled himself away. 

“Would you like some tea?” Hannibal asked. “You’ve told me before that you often feel nauseous the day after a full moon. Do you like peppermint?” 

A sense of relief washed over him, but Will wouldn’t dare admit it to himself. While he no longer wanted to be touched, he had been left hungry for more affection, and receiving it in a less intimate manner -- in this case, a cup of steaming tea -- would be just as nourishing. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.” 

Hannibal headed to the kitchen to boil some water, and Will laid back comfortably on the couch, curling up on his side. He found himself gazing at the patterns on the carpet, his eyes following the threads and the shapes, and listening to the clinks of dishes as Hannibal worked in the kitchen. For someone who talked as much as he did, Hannibal often had a silent presence Will found... confusing. He wasn’t a person who hummed while he worked, or fidgeted with his hands when they weren’t busy… It made Will hyper-aware of his own quirks. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

Hannibal returned a few minutes later with a steaming cup of tea. He placed it on a coaster, and seated himself beside Will, who had moved his legs aside but still laid in his curled-up position. The two of them sat together in comfortable silence as Will sipped his tea, the warmth of it filling his chest. 

“If last night hasn’t tainted the idea for you…” Hannibal began, “And if you’ll allow it, I would love to hunt together again next month. But if you no longer trust me, I will respect that.” 

Will scoffed. “Of course I want to. Don’t be ridiculous.” he said, setting the cup of tea aside. 

Hannibal smiled. “That’s a relief to hear. I would have respected your decision either way, though.” 

“I know. And our monsterhood doesn’t have to be the center of our relationship, by the way.” Will said, but immediately regretted his use of the word “relationship”. Neutral in the denotative sense, but he feared the connotation it held. “I still want to hold onto the humanity I have left. Don’t you?” 

“I do.” Hannibal said, though Will could sense the uncertainty in his tone. Before he could question it, Hannibal added, “Are you asking to spend more time with me? Outside of work and hunting, that is?” 

“If you’d like to.” Will said, lowering his gaze. 

“I would love to.” Hannibal said. “Perhaps we could take a walk through town after work one day. We also don’t have to wait; you could spend the day here, relax in my office while I draw. I could give you a canvas, too.” 

Will smiled at that. “Thanks, but I don’t think I could stay over today. I have dogs to take care of, cleaning to do… And I’m not much of an artist, anyway.” 

Hannibal nodded. “I understand.” 

Once he’d finished his tea, Will went to take his cup to the kitchen; but Hannibal stopped him in the doorway and took it from his hands. “I’ll take care of it.” he said, and before Will could say anything else he’d gone and placed the cup in the sink. Then, he returned to the entry room and unlocked the door for Will, holding it open for him. 

“I can open a door myself, but thanks.” Will teased as he stepped out onto the porch. 

Hannibal couldn’t help but smile. “Of course. Only being a gentleman.” 

Will attempted (and failed) to ignore the flutter in his chest as he headed out to his car.

* * *

As Will stepped out from the crowded convenience store and into the chilly autumn night, he spotted Hannibal waiting by a nearby street light. He glanced at the time on his phone; just a couple minutes before seven. For a moment he worried he’d lost track of time in the store, but Hannibal did have a tendency to show up early. 

“Hey,” Will greeted, ripping open the pack of gum he’d purchased and popping a piece into his mouth. He gestured the package towards Hannibal, not entirely sure of whether he _could_ chew gum, but he’d feel rude if it didn’t at least offer. Hannibal simply shook his head. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, but it’s _especially_ true tonight.” Hannibal began. “Freddie has been pestering me non-stop today. When she’s not intruding in my office, she’s sending emails. I’m in need of good company, lest I go insane.” 

Will shoved the package of gum into his pocket. “She’s been driving me insane, too. Possibly trying to see how far she can push us.” Will sighed. “I considered lying to her, just to see how much I could push _her._ ” he added with a smirk. 

“I also considered that. But the risk of her finding out could be too much.” Hannibal chuckled. “Still, it _would_ be amusing if I managed to convince her that vampires were vulnerable to daisies or newborn kittens.” 

Will snickered. “I suspect you _do_ have a weakness for those, but in a different way than what you meant.” 

“I _am_ fond of cats. And daisies are beautiful as well, but if I were to receive a bouquet, I would much rather prefer roses or carnations.” 

For half a second Will took note of that, and he wanted to beat himself over the head for it. “Do you want to stop at that bookstore?” he asked, gesturing to the building just at the end of the block. 

Hannibal’s expression brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, let’s do that.”

* * *

_’...The pumpkinseed, a member of the sunfish genus, most commonly makes its home in creeks, ponds, and small lakes with abundant vegetation. They are easily identified by their speckled scale pattern and orange-yellow underbelly. An easy catch for beginning fishermen, but too small to be a reliable source of meat.’_

Will turned the crisp page of the encyclopedia, taking in the nostalgic new-book-scent that emitted from it. It was what one might consider a coffee-table book, filled with vibrant pictures of nature scenery and sparsely placed blurbs about the flora and fauna pictured. Will checked the price tag on the cover, and promptly decided that he would be taking it home. 

He closed up the book and glanced around in search of Hannibal. He’d gotten so lost in his own reading that he’d forgotten he hadn’t shown up to the store alone. _’Probably looking at poetry.’_ he thought, making his way across the store. 

Will strolled down to the poetry section and, as expected, spotted Hannibal. He held a soft-cover book that seemed a bit too small for his hands, his eyes scanning the pages with a warmth that Will couldn’t look away from. Readjusting the clunky nature book under his arm, he continued towards Hannibal. 

“Do you plan to get that?” Will asked. 

Hannibal’s reaction was slightly delayed. A few moments passed before he acknowledged Will’s presence. “I’ve already read it.” he said. He turned to the shelf, pulling two larger books apart with his fingers and slipping it back into place. “Simply revisiting an old memory.” 

Will hummed. “Alright. I’m ready to pay for this and head out.” 

As they went through the checkout line, Will went to fish out his wallet, but Hannibal grabbed his arm before he could retrieve it. “I’ll pay.” he offered. Will wanted to tell him no, but Hannibal had already handed his card to the cashier. 

Once they continued their walk, Will re-adjusted the book under his arm; he’d neglected to accept a bag, knowing that its weight and pointed corners would tear through the plastic, but he’d begun to realize he would have preferred that to carrying it around as is. 

Hannibal took note of this. “Would you like me to carry it for you?” 

“I’ve got it, but thanks.” he said. “Next time we go somewhere, I’m paying for you. I may not look like it, but I’m not broke.” 

“I never presumed such a thing.” Hannibal clarified. “I simply wanted to be kind. Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

Will had half a mind to say yes; but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it truly didn’t. “No.” 

After a few minutes of walking together, listening to the blowing wind and the chirping of crickets, they came across a wooden bench near a pond. 

“Would you like to sit down for a moment?” Hannibal suggested. 

“Sure thing.” Will said, secretly relieved that he could finally set down his heavy book. 

As they sat down, Will could hear dogs barking in the distance. A single howl echoed among them, and one by one, the barks gradually turned to a chorus of loosely synchronized howls. 

Will let out a sigh that was visible in the chilly air, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself up. Hannibal took note of this and removed his scarf. “Would you like to borrow this?” 

Will hesitated. “I wouldn’t want you to be cold.” 

“I don’t get cold anymore.” Hannibal said. “I only wore this because it matches my outfit.” 

“Right. Then sure.” Will said. He grabbed the scarf and wrapped it around his neck -- and as it touched his face, he closed his eyes and took in the lingering scent of Hannibal. It was faint, especially when Will didn’t have his heightened senses, but very much there all the same. 

Will noticed Hannibal watching him with a curious expression. He let the scarf fall back into place, a wave of shame washing over him. 

“I’m fond of your scent, too.” Hannibal whispered, as if he’d anticipated Will would try to explain himself. He slid his hand across the bench in a motion that seemed to be reaching for him, but he stopped halfway, allowing Will to take the initiative. 

Will was still embarrassed, but relieved (and slightly amused) that Hannibal had somehow managed to out-weird him. He reluctantly accepted his hand in hopes that he would warm them, but they were just as cold as the night air itself. 

He tilted his head up to the starry sky. Will wanted to allow himself to accept his affection, to be nourished by him… Yet a lingering sense of guilt and fear suppressed him every time he grew closer to acceptance. 

Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s hand, letting out another soft exhale. He caught a glimpse of their reflection in the pond. Hannibal’s coat reflected in the water, but not his face; Will’s irises reflected the moonlight, his hair tousled by the wind. The image nauseated him, and had half a mind to ask if they could sit somewhere far away from any body of water, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. Will’s hands felt like they were frozen. 

His thoughts spiraling, Will didn’t notice Hannibal lifting his hand up from the bench. Only when he pressed his lips to his knuckles did he snap himself away from their reflection. 

“Hannibal...” Will slowly pulled his hand away. 

Hannibal’s expression didn’t change. “You shouldn’t deny yourself. Stay with me, Will.” 

A sense of fear rushed through Will’s body, and for a shameful moment he wondered if Hannibal had somehow glimpsed into his thoughts. “I’m not denying myself anything.” Will said, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up. “I think I should head home.” 

Hannibal’s expression faltered ever so slightly. “My apologies. I did not want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just feel a headache coming on.” Will tightened the scarf around his neck. 

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Hannibal asked. 

“I’ll walk on my own.” The words came out far harsher than he’d meant them to. Will kept his gaze lowered as he pushed forward, the icy air stinging his eyes. He could still feel Hannibal’s lips on his knuckles… And he clung to that lingering sensation, feeling a shameful sense of disappointment once the kiss faded. 

As Will hurried out of sight, Hannibal glanced back to the bench and saw that he’d left his book behind.


	9. Chapter 9

_’...For most days of the month, a werewolf can pass as a normal human being -- save for a few ‘quirks’ that can easily go unnoticed. They are vulnerable to silver, and contact with skin can result in severe burns; and like any other canine, they become seriously ill if they consume chocolate or grapes. It’s common for them to pass these vulnerabilities off as mere allergies. They are known to have a short temper, and may lash out more often than they did before they were turned. And because they are naturally nocturnal, human-form werewolves struggle to sleep during the night, and as a result will often be lethargic during daylight hours.’_

Will glanced at the time on the clock and rubbed his eyes; it was 4:55 AM. He’d have to be getting up for work in a few minutes, and he’d only managed to sleep in short periods here and there. In the hours he laid awake in bed, he found himself browsing Freddie’s blog on his phone against his better judgment. The descriptions of werewolves -- and by extension, himself -- weren’t unlike the ones in the nature book he’d bought; objective yet dehumanizing, speaking of him as if he had no say in the matter. 

And then Will realized he’d left the book on the park bench. With a groan, he buried his face into his pillow. Either the book was a lost cause, or Hannibal had taken it with him, and the thought of approaching him after that night wasn’t exactly appealing. Not wanting to dwell on this thought any further, Will turned his attention back to his phone. 

_’Though both are monsters who attempt (and often fail) to blend in with the human world, werewolves and vampires are-’_

“Nope.” Will dropped his phone back on the nightstand. Vampires were the last thing he wanted to think about right then. Deciding there was no point in trying to sleep again, he pulled himself out of bed with an exhausted sigh. 

Once Will was showered and dressed, he put on a pot of coffee as he prepared his dogs’ meals for the day. Fortunately, the whole pack was still sound asleep, so he had the kitchen to himself. No dogs flocking him and begging for food, barking up a storm that would’ve been _far_ too harsh on his sleep-deprived head. 

Only after he’d filled all of their respective dishes did he wake the dogs. Once they’d eaten, he let them out into the backyard, leaving the door open for them as he finished getting ready for work. As he tied his shoes, he spotted the plaid scarf hanging on the coat rack with his winter coat; _Hannibal’s_ scarf. But he reminded himself that Hannibal didn’t technically _need_ it, and his guilt waned the slightest amount. 

After the dogs had all come inside, Will locked up the back door. He put on his coat, wrapped the scarf around his neck, and headed out.

* * *

It was the middle of the week, and the students were getting restless. Normally Will’s mind would be focused on shushing them and trying to keep them focused; but sleep deprivation made him apathetic, so the first half of his day more or less consisted of students walking all over him. 

The fourth period bell rang, and his final freshman class of the day was free to go. At least he could feel fairly confident that the rest of the day would be _somewhat_ smoother now that the freshmen were out of the way. 

As Will prepared himself for the next class, he heard the distinctive clicking of Alana’s high heels in the hallway. He glanced up for a brief moment before going back to straightening up his papers. “Good morning -- or almost afternoon, I suppose.” he greeted. 

“Hey, Will...” Alana said. She had that tone in her voice that sounded like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring herself to. “How’s your day going?” 

Will gave her a knowing smile. “Is there something you need from me?” 

“Not quite.” she said with a defeated sigh. “I was wondering if we could talk for a bit during lunch?” Alana asked, tilting her head. “Maybe catch up a bit, since it’s been quite a while since we’ve really spoken.” 

Will felt a hint of annoyance; he wasn’t sure _why,_ but he didn’t quite believe her. “Sure, why not. I’ll be in the teacher’s lounge.” 

“I was thinking in my classroom, actually.” Alana suggested. “If that’s okay with you? More privacy.” 

Before he could question _why_ privacy was so necessary for some simple “catching up”, a group of laughing teens walked into the classroom. “Sure, fine.” Will said reluctantly. He lacked the energy to protest while his students could hear. “I’ll be there at noon.” 

Alana let out the slightest sigh of relief. “Alright, thanks. I’ll be seeing you, then.” she said, hesitating before she turned and headed out of the classroom.

* * *

Noon rolled around, and after grabbing himself a cup of coffee from the teacher’s lounge, Will headed straight for Alana’s classroom. He shut the door behind himself, since “privacy” was what she’d wanted, after all. 

Immediately, Will could sense that she was nervous. Her hands trembled slightly as she closed up her computer, and she paused a moment to swallow before she even acknowledged him. “Hi.” Alana finally said. 

Will seated himself on the edge of her desk. He neglected to face in her direction, instead preferring the plastic skeleton hanging on the wall, its vertebrae and cranium covered with sticky-note labels. “So, what’s this about?” he asked. 

Alana laughed nervously. “You know me too well. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about. I want to be as clear and straightforward about this as possible.” 

“Already failing at that.” Will took a sip of his coffee. 

Alana let out a sigh. “Will, I know what’s going on with you.” 

Will pretended to be unfazed. “Well, I sure don’t.” he scoffed. 

Alana shook her head. “I know what happened to you at the beginning of the year, and why you haven’t been the same ever since.” 

Will set down his cup of coffee, but didn’t say a word. All he could think of was Freddie, and for a short and sickening moment he’d wished Hannibal had been able to finish what he’d started. 

“It was in my _yard_ , Will.” Alana snapped him out of his thoughts, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “I… I think it was the animal that attacked you in January.” 

And like a switch had been flipped, his anger towards Freddie dwindled and was replaced with that of pure fear. 

“When you described it to me the night you were attacked, I’d thought it was just a side effect of your anesthetics.” Alana continued. She stood up from her desk so that she could face Will. “From the claw marks on your body, they'd concluded that it was a bear, or possibly a mountain lion, but… I saw it for myself, and it was _exactly_ as you’d described.” 

Will still refused to meet Alana’s eyes, simply turning his head away when she moved into his line of vision. “And _how_ had I described it?” 

“It was dark, so I couldn’t see it very well,” Alana began, “But… it was some kind of deformed wolf with scales and... _wings_. A devil-like tail that was pointed at the end.” Alana trailed off, looking somewhat nauseated. 

Memories of the night he’d been attacked came flooding back. Will felt sick to his stomach. Wherever Alana was going with this, he wanted out of it -- he didn’t want to hear another word of this, but like that night on the bench with Hannibal, he was frozen in place. 

“And that leads into the question I have for you.” Alana continued once she recollected herself. “Whatever that thing was that attacked you, it did something to --” 

“Are you safe?” Will cut her off, not wanting to hear the question that he _knew_ was coming. 

Alana gave him a strange look. “It didn’t get too close to my house. I think it was just passing through, but I’ve been staying with Margot these past few nights because I’ve been scared out of my damn mind. Are _you_ safe?” 

“I don’t know.” Will stood and tossed his paper cup into the trash. “I have a lot of papers to grade. I’ll be seeing you, Alana.” 

“Will --” Alana began; but he was already gone.

* * *

The final bell of the school day had rung. As the students filed out into the hallway, Will retrieved his winter coat from the closet and spotted the plaid scarf hanging beside it. The feeling of anxiety and nausea that’d lingered ever since he’d spoken with Alana only deepened. With a sigh of frustration, he slipped into his winter coat and grabbed the scarf. 

As he made his way through the hall, he paused to ponder if he should make the turn for the exit, or if he should go to Hannibal’s office. _’Just keep the damn scarf. He told you himself that he didn’t need it.’_ he thought. A student bumped into him in the midst of his thinking, mumbling an annoyed “move it, asshole” at his expense; Will had half a mind to reprimand them for it, but they were already lost in the crowd. Clutching the scarf in his hands, he went against his best interests and made a turn for the office. 

With each step forward, the anxiety in Will’s chest grew. He found himself hoping that Hannibal would have already left, leaving him the option of simply hanging the scarf on his doorknob -- in fact, he wondered if that’d be the better option, regardless of whether Hannibal was there. 

But once he reached the door he couldn’t stop himself from turning the handle and stepping in without even knocking. 

And as he’d simultaneously hoped _and_ feared, Hannibal was in his office. He was preparing to leave for the day; clearing off his desk and filing away his papers. He turned his gaze up to Will, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Will swallowed the lump in his throat as he shut the door. “I may have unintentionally stolen your scarf. I thought I’d return it.” 

Hannibal smiled sadly, approaching Will and taking the scarf from his hands. “Thank you. You also left your book behind.” he said, glancing back to the closet. But before he could go to retrieve it, Will had already grabbed his hand. 

Hannibal stared into Will’s eyes for a moment; he looked as if he wanted to pull his hand away, but he was uncertain. “Don’t allow me to sway you into ideas that aren’t right for you.” 

Will pulled Hannibal closer and reached for his other hand. He never wanted to see a human again. Not his rude, ungrateful students. Not Alana, not Beverly, not Jack, and especially not Freddie. Nobody who lacked the ability to understand him, nobody who intended to hurt him, nobody who would look upon his true form with disgust… He wanted them far in the back of his mind. In that moment, _Hannibal_ was the only thing that didn’t completely repulse him. 

“You haven’t.” He reached up to touch Hannibal’s jawline; his skin ice cold, yet soft on his fingers like snow. “I’m a monster, and I’ve known this for a long time. I’m… I’m only now _beginning_ to accept what I am.” Will whispered, dragging his fingers down to Hannibal’s neck. He spotted a faint scar near his jugular. “I can’t change who I am, or force myself to be happy about it; but I’m done being alone.” 

A soft smile crept across Hannibal’s lips. “In accepting me, you see the potential to accept yourself in turn.” 

Will nodded. He eyed Hannibal’s full lips, remembering the sensation of them on his hands from the night before… He remembered the cold yet firework-like tingles it had left behind on his skin. Will could feel his body growing warmer. He cupped Hannibal’s cheek and brought their lips together. 

Hannibal’s eyes fell shut, and only then did Will begin to relax; he pulled him into a tight embrace as what started out as a gentle kiss grew deeper, more intense, more breathy, their bodies tight against each other. 

“There are some aspects of you…” Will began once their lips parted, his mouth still lingering by Hannibal’s, “that I don’t comprehend. Aspects that frighten me, even. But even then…” He gently gripped his shoulders. “I want to accept you.” 

Hannibal dragged his fingers across the back of Will’s neck, causing him to shudder. “It’s alright not to understand. Stop thinking so much, and simply let yourself be loved. When was the last time you felt loved, Will?” 

Will rested his head against Hannibal’s shoulder, taking in that familiar scent that he’d once savored on the plaid scarf. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you feel loved, now?” Hannibal whispered. His hand traveled downward, trailing across the fabric of his winter coat. 

“If I don’t feel loved _now_ , I don’t think I ever will.” Will whispered in response. 

“Do you love me?” Hannibal asked. 

Will hesitated for a moment, his fingers tracing the bumps of Hannibal’s spine. He tightened his embrace and let out an exhale. “I do.” he breathed, pulling away so he could look into Hannibal’s eyes. He pushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, his expression softening as he leaned in for yet another kiss. 

The two of them embraced each other once more, their lips parting and rejoining every so often, for what felt like forever. Will never wanted to leave this office, a childish part of him wishing they could simply stay there until the sun set and rose again, not having to be apart from each other for even a moment. But eventually, Hannibal pulled himself away from Will, and retrieved his winter coat from the closet. 

“Would you like to come home with me tonight?” Hannibal asked. “I’ll prepare dinner for you. It’ll just be us, nobody else.” 

Will’s heart fluttered in his chest. He wiped a bit of drool away from his mouth, feeling as if he’d just woken up; refreshed, awake, yet not wanting to leave the comfort of his bed just yet. “I have to take care of my dogs. But after I feed and walk them, I’ll be there.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Of course. Your dogs are important.” he said. He retrieved the nature encyclopedia from his closet, handing it over to Will, who had temporarily forgotten about the book altogether, and hesitated a moment before he took it. “Thanks.” he said, tucking it under his arm. 

“Shall I walk you to your car?” Hannibal suggested. 

Will felt the initial resistance -- the same was the one he felt when Hannibal held the door open for him that weekend, or paid for his book the night before -- but this time, it faded almost immediately. Hannibal wanted to treat him with tenderness, and in turn, he wanted to accept it. “I’d love that.”

* * *

Hannibal had just finished setting the table when he heard Will’s knock at the door. After setting out the basket of freshly baked bread, he hurried to the entry room. 

Upon seeing Will, he felt a budding sense of warmth in his chest. He’d dressed himself up for the occasion -- not fancy by any means, but “nice” by Will’s standards. He’d changed into a clean, black button-up shirt, and his hair had been combed neatly. He’d even applied some sort of cologne -- which Hannibal, admittedly, wasn’t very fond of, especially when he preferred Will’s natural scent, but the effort was charming all the same. 

“I hope you’re fond of venison, because it is in the stew I’ve prepared for you tonight.” Hannibal said, stepping aside so Will could come in. 

“Was that not our first meal together?” Will said with a smirk. 

“That is true; but fortunately, this time it is properly cooked and seasoned.” Hannibal said. “We have plenty of privacy tonight, by the way; Abigail has tutoring after school, and she plans to stay at her friend’s house afterwards. Normally I would say no to sleepovers on a school night, but I decided tonight was a better night than any other to be a bit more lenient.” He led Will into the dining room, his hand gently placed on his lower back. 

“Smart decision on your part. I’m not sure how she’d feel about having dinner with her biology teacher, anyway.” Will said, sitting down at the table. 

“She’s also not fond of venison.” Hannibal said, ladling some soup into a bowl and placing it in front of Will. He cut off a slice of the still-steaming sourdough bread, placing it on a small glass dish. “Would you like some wine?” Hannibal offered. 

“Yes, please.” Will said. He watched with curiosity as Hannibal poured the wine, noticing that there was another glass on his side of the table. “Are you having wine too?” he asked with a curious tone. 

“Though many consider it the blood of Christ, my body unfortunately does not accept it as such.” Hannibal said with a wink. “I will be having my own drink.” 

Only then did Will notice the pouch of blood sitting on Hannibal’s side of the table. He sliced the corner open with a knife, pouring it into the crystal glass before him. It was a purplish shade of red much like the wine Will drank, but far more viscous. Hannibal swirled it around for a moment, and then briefly went to the kitchen to toss the plastic packaging into the trash. 

Once Hannibal was seated, Will tasted the steaming bowl of soup. Though he’d believed Hannibal when he said he knew how to cook, it still caught him by surprise; for someone who hadn’t eaten human food in almost a century, he really knew how to combine flavors in a way that mingled perfectly on his tongue. Still slightly cold from being outside, the heat of the broth warmed his stomach. 

“This isn’t very different from the meals we’ve shared on the full moon.” Hannibal noted. “The blood I’m drinking came from the same deer I used in your dinner.” 

“You label your blood?” Will asked, tearing off the crust of his bread and dipping it into his bowl. 

“I mark the date on the packages when I store them in my freezer.” Hannibal said, finally taking a sip. Will’s gaze lingered on him as he did this, watching as his lips parted from the glass and left a few droplets on his lips, which he quickly licked away. He caught a glimpse of his fangs in his mouth, fully extended; when it was just the two of them, Hannibal had nothing to hide. 

As they both finished up their respective dinners, Hannibal was quick to bring the dishes to the kitchen, insisting that Will didn’t need to help him. So instead, Will hung nearby as Hannibal washed up, feeling a bit shamefully clingy that night. 

As Hannibal stood at the kitchen sink, Will cautiously approached him from behind and slipped his arms around his waist. Hannibal paused, letting out a slight chuckle. “As charming as that is, it is difficult to wash dishes when you’re latched onto me like that.” 

Will quickly pulled away, immediately realizing how silly he'd been. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Hannibal said, drying off his hands and turning to Will once he was finished. “Would you like to come to my office? I have something to show you.” 

“Sure.” Will said. He had an urge to hold Hannibal’s hand as they walked, but he decided against it at the last minute, still feeling embarrassed by his own clinginess. 

Hannibal closed the door behind them once they reached the office. As Will made his way over to the couch, he eyed the books that lined the shelves; they were eerily pristine, as if Hannibal read each of them fairly often and made a point to dust them frequently. 

Once Will was seated, Hannibal had retrieved a sketchbook from his desk and joined him on the cushion to his right. “There’s a piece of art I’ve been working on. It’s only a sketch right now, but I’m considering turning it into a painting; if you’ll allow it.” 

Why Hannibal needed his permission to paint something, Will was uncertain, but he nodded anyway. 

Hannibal opened up the sketchbook and flipped through the pages. Will caught glimpses of his various sketches -- of nude bodies, angels, animals, and portraits of various faces he didn’t recognize. He finally stopped on a page that stood out from the rest; a drawing of a very familiar, very unbecoming beast. 

Will’s heart sank down into his chest. It was his werewolf form, no denying it -- with its distinctive antlers, those salivating fangs, that mangled fur... And though he wanted to be flattered, seeing it among Hannibal’s sketches of beautiful subjects… He felt that it stood out in a way that made him feel exposed. 

Hannibal noticed Will’s shift in mood, and set the sketchbook aside. “I don’t draw things that are unpleasant.” he said. 

“I’ve tainted your perception.” Will scoffed. 

“Don’t be so proud.” Hannibal chuckled. “You don’t have _that_ much power over me.” 

Will smiled, but didn’t say anything in response, simply fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt. Hannibal watched him as he closed up the sketchbook. If it had been anyone else, he’d have deemed the behavior rude; but Will was not only struggling to see the beauty in his form, but to see it as anything but hideous… He had patience with Will that he would have lacked with others. 

“If it offends you, I can dispose of it.” Hannibal suggested. 

“No. It’s fine.” Will said, finally turning his gaze up to Hannibal. “It was kind of you. And you seem to have put a lot of work into it.” To further cement that he wasn’t upset with Hannibal, he reached for his hand and gave it a little squeeze. Hannibal slipped his arm around Will’s waist and pulled him a bit closer, and this time, Will accepted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked the chapter!!! please comment and tell me what you think, i'd really appreciate it! :3


	10. Chapter 10

As Hannibal prepared for work, the presence of Will lingered in the back of his mind; when he showered and dressed himself in fresh clothes, or filled his thermos with blood for the day, or when he drove himself to work in silence, or made his way through the quiet and empty halls of the school. Not for a mere second did his mind stray from Will, from the kiss they’d shared that previous afternoon, or the many more that followed when he came to visit his house, or the way his body warmed his own when they embraced. 

It was a relationship that, to his disappointment, needed to be kept low; while teachers being involved with one another wasn’t by any means prohibited, it was something that Will wasn’t prepared to be open about just yet, and Hannibal was prepared to respect that. Especially when they worked among high school students; there could be potential backlash from parents, after all. 

That said, neglecting to show his affection for Will was out of the question -- and doing so in a subtle way was not beyond his ability. Instead of heading to the northern wing where his office resided, Hannibal took a turn in the direction of Will’s classroom. As expected, the door was locked. Fortunately, the gap beneath the door was just wide enough for Hannibal to slide an envelope through, and so he did exactly that. Feeling accomplished with himself, Hannibal continued towards his office. 

He unlocked the door, feeling a wave of relief as he stepped from the brightly lit hallway and into the darkness of his room. After hanging his coat in the closet, Hannibal twisted the lid from his thermos and took a long sip of the warm blood within it. 

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, causing Hannibal to flinch -- he’d arrived _particularly_ early that day, so he hadn’t anticipated anyone coming to this wing of the school quite yet. He quickly placed the lid back on the container and licked the blood from his lips _just_ before the door creaked open, and he spotted the face of Alana. 

“Good morning, Ms. Bloom.” Hannibal had quickly recollected himself. “Is there something you need?” 

Alana closed the door behind herself as she came in. “Good morning. Forgive me for stopping by so early.” She turned on the lights, and Hannibal resisted the urge to shield his eyes. 

“That’s perfectly fine with me. I would prefer it to the middle of the day when I have students in the room.” Hannibal said. 

“That's true. If it’s alright, I wanted to ask you something about Will.” Alana said. 

“I cannot guarantee I will be able to answer, for his privacy is my utmost priority. But you are free to ask whatever you please.” Hannibal said. He grabbed a tissue and wiped away a droplet of blood that had dripped down the side of his thermos, tossing it into the trash can. 

Alana caught a glimpse of the tissue before it landed, noting the bright red blotch in the middle. A thought ran through her mind, but she shook it off before she could make anything of it. She turned her gaze back to Hannibal. “Can you promise me that if you think I’m out of my mind, you will keep it between us?” 

Hannibal smiled. “As I said before, I value confidentiality. What is your concern, Ms. Bloom?” 

The formality of the way he spoke made her skin crawl; she knew that he was new to their school, and wanted to come across as polite, but after months of knowing each other, she’d felt they should have been on a first-name basis already. Pushing her annoyance aside, she refocused her mind on what she’d come to discuss and seated herself in the chair across from Hannibal’s desk. 

“I’m concerned that Will is…” She couldn’t bring herself to say werewolf, even knowing that Hannibal promised to keep their conversation private, because speaking such a bizarre word felt like a joke in and of itself. “Dealing with some sort of… unconventional illness. You weren’t working here when it happened, but he may have told you -- early on in the year, he was attacked by a wild animal.” 

“Yes, I’ve been made aware of that.” Hannibal said. 

“Ever since that accident, he hasn’t been quite the same.” Alana said. “They were never able to settle on what exact animal it might have been -- some theorized a bear, a mountain lion… But it was inconclusive.” 

“Are you concerned it may have given him a virus?” Hannibal asked. 

“I suppose one could consider it a virus,” Alana said, “but not the type you would normally associate with animal bites. He spent a few weeks afterward receiving plenty of vaccines and antibiotics.” 

“I would certainly hope so; zoonotic viruses are not to be taken lightly.” Hannibal said. “So what is it you think he might have? Are you concerned they may have missed a dose? Or something different entirely -- a disease without a name or cure?” 

Alana exhaled. “I’m saying that whatever animal may have attacked him, it wasn’t one that any rational person would have initially considered. And I suspect that he may be… turning into one?” 

Hannibal nodded in understanding. “The belief in lycanthropy has been around for as long as humanity and animals have roamed the earth. We see ourselves in the beast; instances such as this are a humbling reminder that we are no different.” 

Alana felt herself relax; at the very least, Hannibal had been the first one to outright _say_ the word. “Do _you_ believe in lycanthropy, Hannibal?” 

“I do.” Hannibal said. “Do you believe that’s the case with Mr. Graham?” 

And just like that, Alana’s unease returned. “Do you?” 

Hannibal hesitated for a moment to ponder the question. “I am certain that Will is the same person he was before. I believe his change in behavior is rooted in psychological issues, not _physio_ logical.” 

Alana’s gaze flicked back to the trash can for a brief moment. “I’ll have to take your word for it, then.” she said as she rose to her feet; lies through her teeth. “Thank you for letting me discuss this with you; I trust you’ll stay true to your word to keep this confidential." 

“If I didn’t, it would severely undermine my abilities as a counselor.” Hannibal said, his eyes following her as she walked towards the door. “Have a wonderful day, Ms. Bloom.” 

“You as well.” Alana said.

* * *

As Alana made her way into the teacher’s lounge, she put on a pot of coffee. She lifted herself up onto the counter, scrolling through her phone as she waited for the water to boil. 

A moment later the door opened -- and in walked Beverly, followed by Freddie. The two of them were laughing, likely about an inside joke of sorts; over the past few weeks, Alana had picked up on their relationship, but had neglected to say anything about it, deciding there’d be no purpose in pointing out the obvious. 

“Hey there.” Beverly said, acknowledging the third wheel’s presence before turning her attention back towards Freddie. She opened the fridge, pulling out a big plastic container with a lid. 

“Do you want one?” Freddie offered as she peeled the container open. Inside was roughly two dozen cinnamon raisin muffins lined up in rows. “Me and Bev made them. There’s more than enough to go around.” 

“Sure, thank you.” Alana reached for one. She’d never admit it, but it was much more appealing than the leftovers from the dinner Margot had prepared last night. She loved her dearly, and would never tell her this, but when it came to cooking… It just wasn’t her best area. 

“You feeling alright today?” Beverly asked, grabbing a muffin for herself and taking a bite. 

“Not quite, but I will be.” Alana said. 

Freddie kept silent, not seeming to care much either way; empathy was never her strong suit. 

“Well, until then, tell us about it.” Beverly said after an awkward silence. 

“I’m just worried.” Alana began. “About Will, and possibly Hannibal, too. Have you noticed something off about them lately?” 

Freddie snorted, and Beverly nearly choked on her muffin. “I think just about everyone has, Alana. They’re both weird as hell.” 

“Yes, I know.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But I mean more recently. The strangest idea popped into my mind this weekend, and I haven’t been able to let go of it.” She paused for a moment, realizing that they were watching her expectantly. Oh boy. She really didn’t want to say it. 

“Well, what is it?” Freddie asked. 

“That they’re dating?” Beverly grinned. 

Alana sighed with annoyance. “ _No,_ not that.” she said. “It’s nothing -- now that I’ve thought of it, I’m realizing that this isn’t an appropriate concern for me to be sharing with you two. I apologize.” 

“Aww, okay.” Beverly said. Freddie, however, retained a somewhat interested expression on her face. 

Beverly patted the back pockets of her jeans. “Damn it, did I really forget my phone?” she said. “I’ll be right back -- I think I left it in the girl’s room.” She gave Freddie a peck on the cheek before heading out of the lounge, leaving the two of them alone. 

Freddie turned towards Alana with a curious expression. “You should say what you were thinking.” 

Alana shook her head. “I already said I was dropping it.” 

“Yes, but I think I already _know_ where you were going with it. Beverly’s gone, so you won’t be exposing anything. Just say it.” Freddie said. 

Alana narrowed her eyes at her; she _highly_ doubted they both had the same thought in their heads. “I don’t think so, Freddie.” 

“Alana…” Freddie tilted her head. “Come _on._ ” 

Alana let out a defeated sigh. “You’re going to laugh. It’s absurd, and I shouldn’t be dwelling on it.” 

“Probably not, but you should still say it.” 

“If you already know, why do you want me to say it so badly?” 

“Because it’d be funny.” 

Frustration bubbled up in Alana’s chest, “I had a _fleeting_ thought that Will was turning into a werewolf. Happy?” 

Freddie’s expression fell. “Well,” she began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s half of what I was expecting you to say, at least.” 

Alana raised an eyebrow. “What…?” 

“I can’t tell you the other half because I made a promise. Think about it.” Freddie sighed, leaning against the counter. 

“Is… Hannibal one, too?” Alana asked. 

“No, but you’re getting warmer.” Freddie said. 

Alana thought back to the tissue Hannibal had thrown into the trash can, remembering the red stain that had been on it. “Vampire?” 

“There we go.” 

“Of course.” She leaned back against the cupboards. “That’s why he doesn’t eat anything. He carries blood in that thermos, doesn’t he?” 

“Mhm.” Freddie said. 

Alana let out a sigh. “Good. I’m not losing my mind, then.” she said. “What, uh. Kind of blood?” 

“He claims it’s from animals, and I’ve seen him hunt before, so he's probably not lying. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he had a little human blood mixed in.” Freddie said. 

Alana’s eyes widened. “Why is that?” 

“I’d tell you if I could, but I’m bound to a contract.” Freddie said. “How did you find out about Will?” she added in an attempt to change the subject, 

Alana retained her puzzled expression. “Freddie, _why_ do you think --” 

Before she could finish her sentence, the door squeaked open and Beverly returned -- and with Will right behind her, as if to further cement how much their current conversation could _not_ continue. 

“Found my phone! And it _wasn’t_ in the toilet!” Beverly said, holding her phone up in the air. Freddie turned to Will with a smile, as if they hadn’t just been talking about him. Alana forced a smile as well, and scooted over as Beverly joined her on the counter. 

As she took another bite of her muffin, she turned her gaze towards Freddie, who gave her a knowing look. By the expression in her eyes, she had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last of their conversation.

* * *

The moment he stepped into the lounge, he felt a strange air in the room. Before him was one person who _knew_ what he was, another who had suspicions and had likely come to an accurate conclusion, and the third who, to his knowledge, hadn’t a single clue. Freddie and Alana appeared startled by his presence, and had the expressions of someone who had _just_ been speaking of something they didn’t want him to hear. 

As he headed towards the fridge, Will locked eyes with Freddie. There was a hint of fear in her expression, and Will was uncertain what to make of it. 

“Hey, Will. Want a muffin?” The tension in the room broke the moment Beverly opened her mouth. 

“He probably won’t like them.” Freddie cut in before Will could respond. “You don’t like raisins, do you?” 

A year before, he would have seized the offer without hesitation. But as of recently he’d developed the sensitivities of a canine, and grapes -- whether normal or in raisin form -- would likely send him to the ER. “I don’t. Sorry.” 

“Aw, really? If I’d known that, we would’ve gone with the chocolate chips instead.” Beverly said, and Freddie stifled a laugh. 

“It’s fine.” he said, and he retrieved the plastic bag from the fridge that held the cold roast beef sandwich he’d prepared the night before. 

Another awkward silence filled the room. Will knew he was the elephant at fault, and though he suspected they’d go right back to gossiping the moment he left, he didn’t want to be surrounded by the tense energy of the room anymore. He wondered if he should simply head back to his classroom. 

But before he could even turn towards the exit, Beverly blurted out, “Are you dating Hannibal?” 

Will wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the awkwardness in the room _wasn’t_ about him being a werewolf, or humiliated that they’d somehow noticed his… relationship. Dating wasn’t precisely the word he’d use to describe it, though. Will merely stared at her with a confused expression, taking another bite of his sandwich so he had an excuse not to speak. 

“Glass houses, Bev.” Alana remarked. 

“I’m not throwing any stones, though. I’m just curious.” Beverly said, turning her gaze back towards him. “Your silence is deafening, Mr. Graham.” 

“He’s a gentleman, he won’t speak with his mouth full.” Freddie teased. 

“Pfft, not the Will _I_ know. Besides, all he needs to do is nod or shake his head.” Beverly pointed out. 

“Maybe it’s more complicated than that. Not everything can be answered with a simple yes-or-no.” Freddie said. 

“Or maybe you two shouldn't talk about him as if he isn't in the room.” Alana remarked. 

“True. Remember what happened last time I pissed him off?” Freddie added. 

“Alright, sorry.” Beverly rolled her eyes. “I’ll leave you be.” 

Will wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank Freddie for shutting Beverly up, or strangle her for bringing up his past outburst. The rage budding in Will’s chest hadn’t simmered down, and he needed to get out of there before he did anything he’d regret. Shoving the remains of his sandwich into his mouth, Will headed for the door and went straight back to his classroom. 

Save for the distant chatter of the students in the cafeteria, the halls were empty and relatively quiet. A relief from the tension that had near-suffocated him back in the teacher’s lounge. 

Once he reached his room, Will spotted the letter he’d left behind on his desk. Right. The whole morning, Will had been eyeing the cream colored envelope with curiosity. Just by reading the cursive handwriting of his name on the front, he was fairly confident it was from Hannibal -- and that alone only made him more certain that he needed to open it when no students would be peering over his shoulder. 

As he sank down into his chair, Will’s heart was pounding in his chest -- both from the uncomfortable situation he’d just escaped from, and anticipation for whatever it was Hannibal had written for him. 

Knowing Hannibal, it was probably going to be something incredibly sappy… And as genuine as his feelings for him may have been, sappiness and affection were something he was _not_ prepared for. His embarrassment from Beverly and Alana having noticed their relationship didn’t help, either. 

As he peeled the envelope open, thoughts raced through his mind -- wondering whether it would _actually_ be a sappy love note, or just a work related reminder… But if it were work related, he felt that Hannibal would have simply spoken to him directly. And _damn,_ what if it was a breakup letter? (Could it even be considered a breakup if they weren’t officially dating?) Before he could ponder any further, the letter was open and the note fell onto his desk. 

Will braced himself as he flipped the note right-side up; it was thick like cardstock, and it was bordered with golden ink, a cluster of black and red roses in the bottom corner of the page. In the center was a poem written in black ink. 

_Forever may you remain blind  
To how your fur glistens in the night,  
To how the blood of our prey gleams black  
In the lunar luminescence  
The murky stars that reflect blue  
And outshine pools of dark maroon  
The way you tilt to Orion  
And cry out to the skies _

_My beloved, I accept you cannot see  
And I’m pleased to be your guide  
But when or if you awaken  
I’ll wait here at your side._

Will hated that the words on the page made his heart flutter, and he hated that he couldn’t stop taking in the scent of Hannibal that lingered on the envelope. And despite that, he felt the same in return -- at least in that moment, he felt _loved,_ and in turn he loved Hannibal, vampiric tendencies and pretentiousness and all that came with him. 

Will tucked the note away into the drawer of his desk.

* * *

Autumn had reached its unofficial end, for the moment Will stepped outside he could see that the first snowfall of the season had arrived. The parking lot had emptied for the most part, leaving nothing but the cars of staff and students who were staying for extracurricular activities. As Will brushed the thin layer of the snow from his car with a gloved hand, he heard the sound of footsteps in his direction. 

He glanced over his shoulder -- it was Alana, visibly shivering, her hands shoved into her jacket that appeared slightly too thin for the current freezing weather. Will turned back to his car; as if she’d disappear once she was no longer in his line of vision. 

“If what you’re about to say has anything to do with my mental health, what happened in January of this year, Freddie, Beverly, or God forbid _Hannibal,_ you should turn around now.” Will said. 

Alana paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. “I’m here to tell you that I know what’s going on with you, and that I’m not going to tell anyone, so you can stop avoiding me like I have the plague.” 

She noticed Will tensing and reaching for his car door, and she quickly added, “And Freddie wasn’t the one who told me -- she’s even kept her secret from Beverly. I came to my own conclusions. I suggest you get some help -- some _real_ help, not from a coworker like Hannibal who’s dealing with the same problem you are -- before anyone else does the same. You aren’t as subtle as you think.” 

Will let out a pained laugh. “You’re impressive. You managed to mention every damned thing I told you _not_ to talk about.” he said, finally glancing back in her direction. 

Alana smiled. “I can read the room, but I don’t always listen to it. I know you didn’t _want_ to talk about this, but it couldn’t stay unsaid.” she said. 

Will clenched and unclenched his fists. The rational part of him didn’t want to be angry with her; deep down, he knew her heart was in the right place. But at the same time he was terrified, and he didn’t want to accept that, and it instead manifested in the form of anger. 

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate the concern.” Just thanking her felt like he was eating broken glass. His hand still gripping his car door, he wanted to tug it open, but there was another question that lingered in his mind, and he felt he’d go insane if he held in any longer. “Does anyone else know?” 

“Just me and Freddie.” Alana said. “And I intend to help it stay that way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!! comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!! :3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be warned that this chapter is slightly nsfw! hope you enjoy <3

The light of the waning gibbous moon cast a faint glow in the otherwise dark living room; Hannibal sat on the opposite end of the couch from Will, his legs crossed with his tablet balanced on his knee. Without his glasses on, Will couldn’t quite make out whatever it was he was reading, but by the color of the screen he could safely assume it was Freddie’s blog. 

“Do you sincerely enjoy reading that garbage, or do you read it out of obligation?” he asked. He shifted so that he was closer to Hannibal, but kept his gaze far away from the light of his tablet. 

“I would have to say both.” Hannibal said. “And you?” 

“Obligation. Even then, I try to avoid it altogether. Just makes me feel like shit.” Will sighed, resting his head against his shoulder. 

Hannibal glanced out the window, watching the snow as it fell, and then turned his gaze towards Abigail. The young girl was curled up in the recliner on the other side of the living room, reading a school book with the light of her phone. The way she chose to sit in the same room as them, yet didn’t quite acknowledge them, reminded Will of a cat in a way; wanting to be near her father, but not wanting to seem like she _cared_ about it. 

“I have an inkling school will be cancelled tomorrow.” Hannibal said. “The storm is only going to get worse tonight.” 

Abigail closed up her book. “I’m done reading this, then. We were supposed to review the chapter tomorrow, but if school’s cancelled I’ll have the weekend to catch up.” She placed the book on a nearby footrest. 

“Just be sure not to forget.” Hannibal said. “And finish it well before Sunday night. You _have_ been known to procrastinate.” 

“I know, I’ll probably finish reading in the morning. I just want a break from it. Ms. Lounds assigns the most _boring_ novels.” Abigail said, taking out her phone. “Can you make hot chocolate? You always make it so good.” 

Hannibal's expression brightened. “Of course, sweetheart. Will, would you like some white hot chocolate? There’s no cocoa in it, so it should be safe for you to drink.” 

Will shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ll just have a glass of water whenever you come back.” 

“I’ll get to it, then.” Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek once he rose to his feet, and gave Abigail a loving pat on the shoulder as he walked past her. 

The moment he was gone, Abigail shifted her position in the chair and leaned across the armrest with a curious expression. “You can’t have _chocolate_?” 

“No.” Will tapped his fingers against the armrest of the couch. “If it’s poison to a dog, it’s poison to me.” 

Abigail smiled. She gazed at Will for another moment, then shifted her position so that she was sitting upright again. “I don’t want to call you Mr. Graham when you’re at our house. I think calling you by your first name would make you dating my dad a little less awkward. It’s Will, right?” 

Will, admittedly, wasn’t sure how to feel about that; but he could tell Abigail had already made up her mind, and he wasn’t bothered enough to try and convince her otherwise. “Sure. Call me whatever you want.” 

A few moments of silence passed before Abigail spoke again. “I want to see you transform tomorrow.” 

Will gritted his teeth. Had she sent Hannibal out of the room just so she could pester him? “You’ll have to ask your father about that.” 

“So you don’t care either way?” Abigail asked. 

Will, admittedly, did care; but he didn’t want to go into detail as to _why_ he was so ashamed of his beastly form, and he figured Hannibal would probably say no to her request anyway. “I’d prefer if you didn’t, but I won’t stop you.” he finally said. 

Hannibal returned with Abigail’s hot chocolate and Will’s glass of water, and like a switch had been flipped, the awkward air of the room disappeared. Abigail smiled thankfully as Hannibal set the steaming mug on a coaster, and almost immediately did she lose interest in Will’s presence, turning her attention back to her phone.

* * *

A while after Abigail had gone up to her room, Hannibal and Will had begun to wind down for bed. 

“Would you like to sleep in the guest bedroom?” Hannibal asked, facing the opposite direction to give Will his privacy as he undressed and changed into his pajama pants. 

Will scoffed. “Do you want me to?” 

“No, but I do want you to have the option.” 

“I’ll sleep in here.” Will stated, and that was the end of it. 

Once he was dressed, he climbed into bed beside Hannibal. The sheets were cool and silky on his skin, reminiscent of laying in a patch of snow. He laid back against the pillows and watched as Hannibal busied himself on his tablet. 

“Still reading that blog?” Will asked. 

Hannibal chuckled. “I closed that website long ago. I’m self absorbed, that’s for certain, but not that much.” he said. “I’m currently very invested in this book, so I may stay up a while longer. Is that alright with you?” 

“Yeah, of course. I’m not your boss.” Will said. He shifted so that he was laying closer to Hannibal, not quite touching him, but close enough so that he could take in his comforting scent. It wasn’t long before his eyes fell shut and he dozed off.

* * *

The water lapped against Will’s legs as he waded through the creek. The peaceful ambiance of the woods engulfed him; birds chirped as they soared above, and cicadas rattled in the trees. He flinched as something brushed against his calf, only to realize that it was a trout passing by. He regretted not bringing along his fishing gear. 

Another trout swam past, and without thinking, Will’s snatched it up in his hands. His fingers dug into its slick flesh more easily than he’d expected, as if it were made of butter. It flopped around in his hands for a few moments, and then fell limp. 

Will heard the _crack_ of a branch. He turned back to the trees and spotted the biggest dog he’d ever laid eyes on. Its ginger fur was long and sleek, long yellow fangs protruding from its mouth. As it stepped closer and he began to truly grasp just how _big_ this creature was, Will began to feel uncertain of whether it could even qualify as a dog. It was too big to be a coyote, but its face was rather narrow for a wolf. 

A smile spreading across his lips, Will made his way towards the edge of the creek and kneeled down in the soil, setting the trout aside. “Hey, buddy. C’mere.” he cooed. 

But the ambiguously canid animal didn’t look at him; instead, it eyed the trout at his feet. 

With each step it took towards him, fur fell from its scrawny figure, leaving behind a trail of little red tufts. By the time it was at Will’s feet, it was entirely hairless -- revealing a body covered with glistening red scales. Its gleaming yellow eyes were at level with Will’s, but not quite meeting them. It snatched up the trout and swallowed it whole. 

Will took a step back into the creek. The animal coughed and regurgitated a mouthful of cleanly stripped bones. Only then did it meet his eyes -- not those of a dog, but far too human for Will’s comfort. The creature lunged for his neck.

* * *

Will awoke with a jolt. He felt the presence of an unfamiliar bed and a body beside him, and he began to panic before he remembered where he was. _’It’s alright.’_ he reassured himself, falling back against the pillows. _’I'm in Hannibal’s bed. I’m safe.’_

“Will?” Hannibal asked. His voice was breathy, and he reached across the bed to caress Will’s cheek. “Are you alright?” 

“It’s okay,” Will said, though it was more directed towards himself than Hannibal. He struggled to catch his breath as he pulled off his shirt; it was drenched in sweat. “I just had a nightmare.” 

Hannibal was silent for a few more moments; then, he felt the bed shift. “Would you like to tell me about it?” 

Will shook his head. “It isn’t worth talking about. It was just one of those ones that end with someone -- something jumping at you.” he said. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you certain?” Hannibal asked, brushing a strand of hair from Will’s face. Though the light in the room was dim, he could faintly see the outline of Hannibal’s face, and could tell he bore a loving yet concerned expression. 

“Positive.” he said. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the blankets aside. He was feeling overheated. “Did I wake you?” 

“You didn’t. I haven’t fallen asleep yet.” Hannibal said. 

Will noticed that his tablet was laying on the nightstand. “What were you doing?” 

Silence. An amused grin crept across Will’s face, and though it was dark, he could tell Hannibal was likely flustered. 

“Perhaps I should go to the guest bedroom. I apologize, Will.” 

“No, don’t.” Will placed a hand on his shoulder before he could try to leave. “It’s fine. You're allowed to jerk off in your own bed. I was... considering doing the same; it’ll help me relax.” 

Another silence filled the room, and for a moment, Will wondered if his suggestion had made Hannibal uncomfortable. But then he heard the shifting of blankets and Hannibal adjusting so that he was lying back against the pillows. “If you insist.” 

“I don’t _insist._ But I also don’t _want_ you to leave.” Will said. To further cement his point, he slipped his hand down the front of his pajama pants. This seemed to satisfy Hannibal, as Will could hear him doing the same. 

The two of them laid together in silence for the next few minutes, save for the stroking of their hands and steadily increasing breaths that came from their lips. But Will had a question on the tip of his tongue. He turned his gaze towards Hannibal, admiring the way the dim moonlight illuminated his profile. 

“Were you picturing me?” Will whispered. 

“Who else?” Hannibal breathed. 

A warm feeling fluttered in Will’s chest. His hand was moving faster, now, his breath growing a bit heavier. His free hand reached for Hannibal’s and gripped it tight. 

A quiet moan left Hannibal’s lips, and he ran his fingers across Will’s knuckles. Will could tell he was getting close; he’d had a head start, after all. It wasn’t long before he could hear Hannibal’s climax -- his grip tightened around Will’s, and another louder moan ensued, his back arching against the bed. 

Soon enough, Will followed; he let out a soft groan, curling into Hannibal as the waves of pleasure racked his body. 

As he came down from the excitement, Will began to relax. He clung to Hannibal as the remains of his orgasm lingered, his lower regions warm and tense. Hannibal slipped an arm around him and tugged him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The icy sensation of Hannibal’s body soothed his own, still hot and sweaty from his nightmare. 

Will pressed a kiss to the scar on Hannibal’s neck. His hand slipped up the front of his shirt, gently tangling through the happy trail that reached his navel, and travelling up to the patches of hair that scattered his chest. With his face buried into Hannibal’s shoulder, surrounded by his cold yet comforting figure, Will fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Will awoke to a gentle breeze on his shoulders; he shivered and reached for the blanked he’d kicked away the night before, and he tugged it over his half-naked body. He heard the sound of footsteps across the room. Finally opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Hannibal getting dressed. For a brief moment he could see his bare back -- the muscles and scars and all -- before he pulled his black button-up over himself like a cape, slipping his arms into the sleeves. 

He then glanced over and saw that the window was open. Another breeze ruffled his hair. The curtains were pulled shut, but a thin sliver of light shone in as the wind ruffled them, casting a golden ray across the bed. Will sat upright and rubbed his eyes, and only then did Hannibal turn to face him. 

“The day of the full moon is upon us.” Hannibal approached Will and kissed him on the forehead. He smelled rather fresh, and Will presumed he’d been awake for a while; at least long enough to have showered and brushed his teeth. “The word ‘lunatic’ comes from lycanthropy related legends. Do you feel the beginnings of your lunacy setting in, Will?” he pondered with an amused smile. 

“Good morning to you, too.” Will scoffed, slinging his legs over the other side of the bed. He stretched for a moment, and Hannibal grabbed him by the hand, guiding him up to his feet. 

“It seems you were able to sleep well.” Hannibal remarked, bringing Will into a gentle embrace. The latter rested his chin against his shoulder; unlike the night before, however, his cold body wasn’t quite what he needed, as the breeze in the room had left him rather chilly. Will pulled away and reached for his discarded shirt -- only to remember it’d been drenched in sweat. He crinkled his nose at the smell. 

“Would you like to borrow one of my shirts?” Hannibal offered. “And underwear, perhaps?” 

“Please.” Will said. “But I’m probably going to head straight home. Dogs need taken care of, and I need to get ready for tonight.” He slipped out of the pajama pants and stepped into the strangely-silky underwear he’d been offered. It was a kind gesture, but he intended to change out of them the second he got home. He then grabbed the discarded pair of jeans he’d left on Hannibal’s leather chair and slipped those on as well. 

“What time would you like me to come over?” Hannibal asked. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Will said. 

Hannibal fetched a dark blue top from the closet and handed it to Will. Once he’d slipped his arms through the sleeves, Hannibal took over and buttoned the front for him. He made sure to take his time, too; as if he wanted to savor every inch of Will’s body while he could. 

“You’re particularly clingy this morning.” Will noted, but his tone was pleasant. 

Hannibal smiled. “Perhaps I am,” he admitted. “There are many sides of you that only I have had the fortune of witnessing. I want to cherish that as much as possible; lest I take it for granted.” He turned his gaze up towards Will. “That includes the side of you I will be seeing tonight; the side you’re still learning to accept.” 

Being reminded of that insecurity struck a nerve in Will, but he didn’t care enough to acknowledge it. “Speaking of that,” Will began, “your daughter said she wanted to see me transform tonight.” 

“And what did you tell her?” Hannibal asked. 

“I told her to ask you. I sort of anticipated you’d tell her no… Or maybe I had just _hoped_ you would.” 

“You’d be wrong, then.” Hannibal said. “I would prefer not to take her along on our hunting trip, but perhaps she could stay at the house and keep your dogs company. She’s very fond of animals.” 

Will chuckled. “Seriously? I thought my monstrous form would be a sight for your eyes alone.” 

“It’s one that I treasure dearly, yes, but I’m willing to share.” Hannibal said, reaching down and tucking Will’s shirt into his jeans. “If you would prefer she not see you, though, I will tell her no. It is your call as much as it is mine.” 

“She…” Will paused for a moment. “She can come.” he finally said, though his tone was reluctant. 

He pulled away from Hannibal and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He left the door open, however, and Hannibal could see Will’s reflection in the mirror; in the dim light, he could see his blue eyes reflecting in the mirror like two pale blue moons. “You don’t seem comfortable. If you would prefer not to have Abigail at your house, she will stay home.” 

“No, it’s not that.” Will finally said. “It’s more about the nightmare I had last night. I still don’t want to go into detail about it,” he continued, wiping his face on the towel, “but it took place in the woods. So I’m just not entirely _thrilled_ about the prospect of hunting as a whole, but all I can do is power through it.” 

Hannibal nodded in understanding. “Be it from man or fellow monster, I will ensure that the three of us remain safe.” 

Will had half a mind to remind Hannibal that he hadn’t quite succeeded in doing that the previous month, but he decided against it. After all, he, too, was responsible for his own safety, and he had also lashed out at Freddie that night. “I’ll try my best to do the same.”

* * *

The full moon was high in the night sky; Abigail sat on the kitchen counter with her legs crossed, positioned so that she could easily peer out the window. Zoe, the smallest of the pack, was curled up comfortably on her lap, and she stroked her fur with her free hand, flipping through a text book with the other. 

“Are you ready to depart?” she heard Hannibal ask from the living room. 

“Yep.” Will responded, and excitement bubbled up in Abigail’s chest as she heard them approaching the door. Will glanced her way before he unlocked it, giving her a nod of acknowledgment. She could see the beginnings of his transformation had begun, and dark fur sprouted out from the collar of his flannel. “The dogs are your responsibility tonight, Abigail. Feel free to let them out in the yard if they get antsy, but keep a close eye on them. They won’t run off, but they sometimes try to piss on the neighbor’s plants.” 

He gave Buster a knowing glare, to which the beagle sheepishly lowered his tail. “And there’s dog t-r-e-a-t-s on top of the fridge if you want to give them some.” Will added. 

_”There’s what on the fridge?”_ Zoe lifted her head up from Abigail’s lap, and Will smiled. 

“Got it.” Abigail scratched the little dog behind the ears. 

“And _please_ call me if anything happens.” Hannibal added. “If you feel unsafe at any point, I will come straight back.” 

“I’ve been in a house alone before. I _think_ I’ll survive.” Abigail rolled her eyes. 

Hannibal looked as if he wanted to scold her, but Will had already stepped out into the back yard. He followed in his footsteps, deciding to let Abigail’s attitude slide for the time being. The door clicked shut behind him. Abigail shifted her position on the counter and peered out the kitchen window. 

As the moonlight shone on Will’s body, the transformation completed -- his whole body engulfed with thick, dark fur, the claws sprouting from his fingertips, the yellowed and jagged fangs jutting from the snout that protruded from his face. His flannel fell down into the snow, and he sank down to all fours. Abigail watched with an intrigued expression as he tilted his head back to the night sky. A pair of antlers burst out from his skull, and he let out a long howl. 

As his voice echoed through the night, a second howl rang right back.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy the chapter!! 
> 
> trigger warning for animal death and implications of sexual abuse (mason is in this chapter so... yeah)

Will woke to the sound of his phone ringing. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced over to the side of the bed where Hannibal had slept, only to see that it was empty. With a sigh, he reached for his phone and glanced at the number; Alana. Whatever she needed, it could wait. He rejected the call and placed it back down on the nightstand. 

Mere seconds later, it began to ring again. With a groan of defeat, Will heaved himself out of bed and begrudgingly answered the call. 

“Can I help you?” Will sighed. 

He heard Alana chuckle from the other end. “Actually, yes.” she said. “I’m sorry for calling you so early, but I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important. Are you busy today?” 

“Not particularly.” Will said. He held his phone up with his shoulder as he slipped out of his pajamas, grabbing some fresh clothes from the closet and laying them out on the bed. 

“Good, because there’s something I need to show you. I was hoping you and Hannibal could come over here.” Alana continued. She paused, as if mulling over her words, and when she spoke again her voice was suddenly uneasy. “Last month, I told you about the, um, unidentified creature -- likely a werewolf -- that I saw in my backyard. Do you remember that?” 

Will’s breath hitched in his throat. “Unfortunately.” he responded after a brief hesitation, buttoning up his flannel. 

“I… I think it was here last night.” Alana admitted. “I’ve been staying with Margot and her brother, and they own a farm, and…” She trailed off for a moment. “Something broke into the barn last night and just went berserk on the pigs. Mason showed up before it could do much damage; fired a gun and missed, but it scared it right off. It seemed to be killing for the hell of it, too; no bites taken out of anyone.” 

Will sat down on the edge of his bed as he pulled on his socks. “I’m surprised you aren’t accusing me.” 

“It crossed my mind, but Freddie told me your werewolf form didn’t have scales, and those were all over the crime scene.” Alana said. 

The dream from the night before flashed through his mind. Will suddenly felt nauseous. 

“There were little tufts of auburn fur between some of the pigs’ hooves, too,” Alana continued. “They must have put up a fight.” She waited for Will to speak up, and when he didn’t, she added, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Will said. “I think I’m gonna --” 

“Can you come over here?” Alana cut off before Will could finish his sentence. “Sorry.” she added sheepishly. “Freddie’s coming over this afternoon. This second werewolf is getting gutsy. I think we need to figure out what it’s doing before… before it does something worse.” 

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Will said, running his fingers through his hair. “Does Margot know?” 

“That you’re a werewolf?” 

Will sighed. “Yes.” 

“She does.” Alana said. “I’m sorry. When that werewolf showed up that one night, I was freaking out, and I just… told her everything I was thinking. Including what I thought it meant for you.” 

Will wanted to be angry, but he was too tired and anxious about the ever looming presence of the preceding werewolf to care. “Her brother?” 

“No.” Alana said. “And we plan to keep it that way.” 

“And what about Hannibal?” 

“I haven’t told anyone about Hannibal yet.” Alana said. 

“Okay, and you better keep it that way.” Will said. “I’ll be there soon. Text me the address.”

* * *

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal stood in front of the stove, stirring a pan full of scrambled eggs. There was a tea kettle steaming on the back burner, and two mugs sitting on the counter. 

“Morning.” Will said, rubbing his eyes. “We’re visiting Alana today.” 

“And why is that?” Hannibal asked. 

“Apparently that other werewolf made a visit.” Will reached for the kettle and poured some hot water into a mug. “Slaughtered a bunch of pigs but didn’t eat any of them. Alana’s freaked out; she thinks their next move will be worse.” 

“A reasonable concern.” Hannibal said, scraping the scrambled eggs onto a dish. He sprinkled a handful of chives on top and brought the plate to Abigail at the kitchen table. “It may be bitter about sharing territory with another werewolf.” 

“Then they should’ve thought about that before they bit me.” Will scoffed. He grabbed a bag of green tea and dropped it into the mug, fully submerging it with a nudge of his finger. 

“Am I coming?” Abigail asked. 

“You can if you’d like,” Hannibal began. “Unless Mr. Graham would prefer you stay here with the dogs?” 

“Ew, don’t call him that when we’re not at school.” Abigail cringed. 

“It doesn’t matter either way.” Will said. “I’ll feed them and let them out before we go, so they should be fine if Abigail wants to come along.” Will opened the fridge and pulled out the container of homemade dog food, which resulted in a chorus of barking and wagging tails. “Shhh,” he hushed them, but to little effect. 

“Are all of the pigs dead, then?” Abigail asked, taking a bite of her scrambled eggs. 

Will smiled, slightly amused at how casually she spoke about this; as if it was a normal topic to discuss over breakfast. “No, just one of them. A few are pretty badly injured, though.” Will said, scooping the food into each dog’s respective dish. 

“Do you think they’ll let me pet them?” Abigail asked. “The pigs that _aren’t_ in recovery, that is.” 

“I don’t know Margot and Mason very well, but I don’t see why not.” Will said. He placed the dog dishes on the floor, and their barking immediately ceased. 

Abigail reached out to pet Max, whose bowl just happened to be closest to the kitchen table. “Then I guess I’ll go.”

* * *

Hannibal’s nose crinkled as the overwhelming scent of pigs surrounded him. The creatures snorted as they walked through the barn, banging against the walls of their pens as they attempted to get a better view of their visitors. 

_’One, two, three…’_

“There you are.” Alana said; beside her stood Freddie, who was eyeing the pen in front of her with curiosity, and a woman he wasn’t quite familiar with, who he assumed to be Margot. 

“Is that the unlucky pig?” Will remarked; he approached the pen and his expression immediately fell, his question clearly answered. 

“Do you have the scales?” Freddie asked. 

Margot nodded, and pulled a small ziploc bag of red scales from her coat pocket. “We found these scattered around the pen, and even between Sandy’s hooves.” she said. “She put up a fight… Poor thing.” She cast the flayed animal carcass a sympathetic look. 

“It didn’t just leave scales, either.” Alana said, holding up a small plastic bag full of auburn hairs. 

“A mammalian-reptilian hybrid.” Will remarked. 

“I’ve heard of werewolves having non-canid traits -- like your antlers, for example -- but _never_ reptilian.” Freddie said. “Can we even be sure this is a werewolf we're dealing with?” 

“It’s what turned me into one.” Will said. “If it isn’t a werewolf, then I don’t know what else it could be. A shapeshifter, maybe.” 

_’...Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three...’_ Hannibal was content to listen to the conversation as he counted the surrounding swine. He glanced back at Abigail, who had strayed off to the side and was peering into a pig pen, a smile on her face as she scratched a black and white pig behind the ears. The sight of it made Hannibal’s skin crawl; he had half a mind to remind Abigail to wash her hands when she was done. 

“Whatever it is, it did this to send some kind of message.” Freddie said. “ _Not_ because it was hungry.” 

Will climbed over the gate of Sandy’s pen. “You could’ve asked me to unlatch it, you know.” Margot teased, but Will didn’t care enough to acknowledge her. 

He knelt down before the pig’s remains, his heart aching at the sight of the creature’s mangled body. “Do you have any gloves?” he asked. “I want to look at something.” 

Alana handed Will a pair of gardening gloves. Once Will slipped them on, he rolled the pig’s body over and brushed the debris away from its flesh. 

“What the hell are you doing…?” Freddie half-whispered. 

“I think their message was more straightforward.” Will said. “Look.” Among the flesh was an array of erratic scratches and bites, but after scrubbing away the mud and hay, Will could make out something that seemed much more mindful, more intentional -- “Sacrifice Him”, carved in the pinkish-brown flesh of the pig’s flank. 

_'Thirty seven, thirty eight, thirty nine…’_ Hannibal heard the barn door open and shut; Abigail had gone outside, presumably for some fresh air. He certainly couldn’t blame her. 

“Holy shit…” Margot remarked. She unlocked the door and stepped into the pig pen, crouching down to get a closer look. 

“Is that all it says?” Freddie reached into her purse for her camera. 

“That’s all I can see. There wasn’t anything on the other side.” Will said. 

“Does ‘him’ refer to the pig?” Freddie asked. 

“This one appears to be a sow.” Hannibal remarked. _’Forty.’_ “Though we can’t go under the assumption that they know how to determine a swine’s sex.” 

“This is a command, not an explanation.” Will said, tugging off the gloves. “They’re telling _us_ to sacrifice someone.” 

“Sacrifice who, though?” Margot remarked. 

“Does it _matter_?” Alana asked. “We’re not going to sacrifice anyone just because some werewolf carved a message into a pig.” 

“ _No,_ but it would be nice to figure out what-” Margot began, but trailed off as the door to the barn creaked open. 

“Margot, are you throwing a party in here?” Mason’s voice echoed against the walls of the barn. “I know you’re very proud of our livestock, but this is _not_ the place for it, honey.” 

“We’re trying to figure out what happened to Sandy last night.” Alana said. “Will and Freddie have studied werewolves, so I called them over to help.” 

Mason’s eyes didn’t acknowledge Alana, however, but stayed locked directly on Margot’s. “And why wasn’t I invited to discuss such an important matter, hm? They’re my pigs, are they not? Tsk tsk.” 

Hannibal could notice Margot’s body growing tense, and her grip tightened around Alana’s hand. As Mason walked past her, he noticed a gloved hand brush against her hip. 

“Well, if you find anything out, be sure to let me know, sweetheart.” he said. His eyes lingered on Margot for a moment longer before he turned for the exit, heading back out into the cold. 

As soon as he was gone, Margot let out a sigh of relief. Her body language was that of someone who feared him, and it didn’t take a lot of thinking for Hannibal to figure why that might be. He then remembered Abigail was outside. 

“I will be right back.” Hannibal said. Will merely gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement; Freddie was too focused on the foul-smelling pig corpse to care, and Alana was whispering something into Margot’s ear. 

As expected, Abigail was standing off to the side of the barn -- and beside her was Mason. He was chatting with her, but Hannibal couldn’t quite make out his words as the icy wind soared in his ears. As he walked towards them, Mason reached for Abigail’s hair and twirled a lock around his finger. 

_’Forty one.’_

“Mr. Verger.” Hannibal greeted, and almost by instinct he jerked his hand away. “Would you be so kind as to show me to your restroom?” 

Mason brushed his hands on his coat and smiled politely. “Absolutely. I was just having a chat with your daughter. A lovely little flower you’ve created; I can’t wait to see her bloom.” he remarked. 

Hannibal could sense the budding rage in Abigail’s chest, and placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “It’s very cold out here, Abigail.” he said, gazing down at her with a concerned expression. “Would you like to head back into the barn? I wouldn’t want you getting ill.” 

Abigail shoved her hands into her pocket. As she exhaled, her breath was visible in the icy air. “Yeah. I was about to do that.” She locked eyes with Mason for a brief moment, her fists clenched at her sides. Hannibal gave her a gentle nudge towards the barn door.

* * *

“...But why would they have turned me if they didn’t want another werewolf around?” Will asked. 

“It might not have anticipated you’d _survive_ the attack.” Alana said. 

“They could have _easily_ killed me, though.” Will sighed. “Turning me was intentional. Whatever they’re asking us to sacrifice, I don’t think it’s me.” 

“Who else would it be, then?” Freddie said. “Had it crossed your mind that you just don’t _want_ it to be you?” 

Will gritted his teeth. “You called me over because you wanted my input. I’m giving it to you, and I don’t think this is as simple as a territory issue.” he said. As he spotted Abigail, his expression softened. “There you are. We’re heading home soon; where’s Hannibal?” 

“He went inside. Mason was showing him to the bathroom.” Abigail said. 

“If I’m not mistaken, vampires don’t… _need_ to do that.” Freddie pointed out. 

“They don’t.” Abigail rolled her eyes. “He probably just wanted an excuse to look around inside the mansion. He’s such a snob.” 

Will let out a huff of amusement. “That’s fine. You can wait in the car if you want, I’ll go hunt him down.” 

Will led Abigail out of the barn and tossed her the keys, leaving Margot, Alana, and Freddie behind. He made his way towards the house and knocked at the front door, but heard no response; only then did he realize that it was unlocked, and he stepped inside. 

“...Hannibal?” Will called. 

Silence. Then, a thud. 

It had come from the kitchen; Will hurried towards the source of the sound. But before he could reach the end of the hallway, Hannibal stepped out from the doorway and blocked his path. 

“Will.” Hannibal placed a firm grip on his shoulder. “What are you doing in here?” 

Will’s eyes widened. “I was looking for _you._ We’re about to leave.” He tried to peer ahead of Hannibal, but he could only see a thin sliver of the tiled kitchen floor. As he shifted his gaze, he could see that Hannibal’s fangs were extended. Before he could question any further, Hannibal gently caressed his cheek and kissed him on the forehead. 

“I’ll be out in just a minute.” he reassured, his voice soft. “Would you please bring the car around back?” 

Will nudged Hannibal’s hand away from his face. “Why do you need me to bring it around back…?” 

“I will have to explain later. Please, Will.” Hannibal urged. 

“Hannibal -- “ 

“Bring the car to the back door.” Hannibal stated -- no longer a request, a command. 

Frustration boiled in Will’s chest. As he opened his mouth to respond, Hannibal had already hurried back into the kitchen and pulled the door shut. Will took a deep breath, allowing his annoyance to cool down before he turned and reluctantly headed back outside. 

He waved a goodbye to Alana, Freddie, and Margot before getting into the car. Abigail was in the back seat, her hands shoved into her pocket and shivering slightly. Will turned on the heat as soon as the car started up. “Sorry about that.” he said. 

“I thought you were getting Hannibal.” Abigail remarked. 

“He’s coming.” Will said. He pulled around to the back of the mansion as Hannibal had requested. The back door opened, and Hannibal stepped out -- carrying a rather huge bag over his shoulders. 

Will stepped out of the car and approached him. “What the hell is that?” 

“Mr. Verger had some old books he needed to dispose of.” Hannibal stated. “I insisted on taking them; many of them appeared to be quite valuable, and as you know, I am an avid collector of vintage literature.” 

Will glanced towards the trash bag, and back into Hannibal’s eyes. He was lying straight to his face and they _both_ knew it. What exactly _was_ in that bag, however, Will wasn’t sure. 

“Alright.” he said, but his tone was entirely unconvinced. Will opened up the trunk, and Hannibal heaved the bag inside. It fell with a solid thud that sounded _nothing_ like a bag of books would have. 

The ride home was silent.

* * *

Once they reached Will’s house, he handed the keys over to Abigail. “Head inside and check on the dogs. I’m gonna have a talk with Hannibal.” 

The expression on her face was one of amused curiosity, but she didn’t say a word as she climbed out of the car. Once she’d unlocked the front door and gone inside, Will turned to Hannibal. “Alright. So you’re going to tell me what the _fuck_ is in that bag.” he said. 

Hannibal glared at Will, visibly disgusted by the tone of voice he’d taken. “I suggest you have a look for yourself,” he stated. 

Gritting his teeth, Will pulled himself out of the car and walked around to the trunk. He pulled up the lid and reached for the black trash bag, but his hands froze up before he could touch it. A chill ran down his spine. The _slightest_ amount of heat was radiating from beneath the plastic. Swallowing his fear, he reached for the bag and pulled it open. 

The sight of Mason’s lifeless body was enough for Will to gag. Two gaping wounds oozed blood from his jugular, the viscous crimson liquid glistening in the sunlight. Will cupped a hand over his mouth and slammed the trunk shut. He wanted to vomit. 

The door on Hannibal’s side of the car swung open. Noticing his distress, he approached Will and placed a hand upon his shoulder. Will’s common sense told him to slap his hand away, to not let Hannibal within a mile of him and his home ever again -- but he didn’t, and in fact found a sickening, shameful sense of comfort in his affection. 

“Will…” Hannibal breathed, his voice just above a whisper. 

“I knew that when you almost killed Freddie, something was still deeply wrong with you.” Will choked out. "But I thought you were _trying,_ Hannibal. Or at least that you fucking _learned_ something." 

“This is _not_ a human that I’ve killed, Will.” he began. “Mason Verger was a pig not unlike the ones he raised and slaughtered himself. He threatened Abigail. He’d violated Margot. If I’d allowed him to go on living, he --” 

“You don’t get to _decide_ if he’s a human or not, Hannibal!” Will slammed his fist against the trunk. “And putting the…” he lowered his voice. “And putting the body _in my car_ was _definitely_ not your call to make, either! Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“It was impulsive.” Hannibal said. “That much I cannot deny. But I will stand by what I’ve done. I do, however, apologize for making you a part of this.” 

“I’m _not_ a part of this.” Will snapped. “I’m not a part of anything you do, Hannibal; not anymore.” 

Hannibal’s expression fell; Will could see the hurt in his eyes, and he tore his gaze away before any semblance of guilt could begin to blossom. 

“I will dispose of this.” Hannibal pulled the trunk back open. “No trace of Mason will be left behind. If for any reason anyone suspects you, I will take full credit for my actions.” he said. He lifted the plastic bag into his arms with ease. 

Even if he had apologized, Will wouldn’t have forgiven him; and yet, the soulless way Hannibal carried this body and spoke of his actions without a lick of remorse deepened the ache in his chest. Will turned and headed into the house without another word. 

“Are you okay?” Abigail asked upon seeing Will in the entry room. “I heard yelling outside. Did he do something stupid?” 

“I’m fine.” Will said. The dogs scampered over to him, and he had to resist the urge to shoo them off. “Your father has to go somewhere before he takes you home.” 

“O...kay.” Abigail was clearly confused, but didn’t care enough to question any further. She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside herself, and Harley climbed up beside her. 

Will headed into the kitchen and grabbed the dogs’ food dishes, placing them in the sink to wash. As he turned on the hot water, he peered out the window into the woods. A trail of footprints in the snow led into the trees. Will grabbed the scrubbing brush, but his eyes didn’t leave the window, even as the brightness of the sun reflecting on the snow stung his eyes. 

Once the bowls were clean, he finally pulled his gaze away from the window; the dark spots of light still lingered in his vision as he placed them on a dish towel to dry. 

_’I will take full credit for my actions.’_ As if it was something to be proud of. Will tasted bile in his throat.

* * *

It was nearing 2 am, and Will hadn’t even scratched the surface of falling asleep. He rubbed his eyes that were sore and dry from lack of exhaustion, and re-adjusted the comforter. 

Every time his eyes fell shut, the image of Mason’s corpse appeared; the streams of blood running down his neck, the dull lifelessness of his eyes. The rage and fear that came with it overwhelmed him. He was alone again, but at least this time, he had someone to blame for it. 

He eyed his phone as it laid on the nightstand. He forced his eyes shut, pushing away his urges -- to read Freddie’s blog, to call Alana, to call the police… to call Hannibal. All he could feel for him in that moment was fear and disgust, and yet his bed felt empty. 

Defeated, he reached for his phone and searched for Hannibal’s name in his contacts. He had a feeling he wouldn’t answer -- he often forgot to charge his phone, and wasn’t very good with technology in general. So he felt a bit less guilty as he called him, and listened to it ring, waiting for it to go to voicemail… 

And then he answered. “Hello?” 

Will was silent. He had half a mind to hang up on him, but before he did, Hannibal spoke again. “Is this Will?” 

Will swallowed the lump in his throat. “I can’t sleep.” he whispered. 

He heard Hannibal shifting in his bed. “Another nightmare?” 

“I’d almost prefer that right now.” Will sighed. 

Hannibal didn’t respond. By then Will was certain he’d waken him up, because any other time he couldn’t get the man to shut up. “Was it my fault for trusting you at all?” he asked. 

“No.” Hannibal said. “My love for you is genuine, Will. If I am to be honest, so were my attempts at reforming.” 

“But they weren’t successful.” Will said. “Is there anyone else?” 

“Anyone else I’ve killed since we’ve met, you mean?” Hannibal asked. 

“Yes.” Will responded. 

“No.” Hannibal said. “Mason is my first non-antlered kill in quite some time.” 

More silence. Will hated the glimmer of hope that welled up in his chest. 

“I felt sympathy for Abigail when I found her… genuine paternal love was quick to follow." Hannibal continued. "Her father was a killer, and he made her a part of it. She wanted a life better than that, and I wanted that for her…” He trailed off for a moment. “But circumstances change, and I promised to protect her. Mason gazed upon her with sickening intentions. If going against my promises means protecting her, I will break my promise as many times as necessary.” 

Will’s heart sank. “You don’t regret doing this, then?” 

“I don’t.” Hannibal said. “When I drank Mason's blood,” he continued, “I felt as if no harm could come Abigail’s way. And when I drank Freddie’s, I felt the same. Though I didn’t succeed in finishing her off… I had gained power over her.” Hannibal paused, as if pondering whether to continue. “When I found my sister dead, I was not yet a vampire. I couldn’t have revived her. And yet… I still drank her blood -- to have power over the men who’d killed her. I’d reclaimed her.” Hannibal paused again. “I see Mischa in Abigail sometimes.” 

Will didn’t speak. Despite how much he feared him after that morning, and how much his actions infuriated him, his love for Hannibal hadn't faded. He felt sympathy for him -- he even understood why he'd killed Mason. 

“I can suppress my instincts, but never they are never truly gone.” Hannibal finally said. “The blood of animals -- non-human animals, that is -- can sustain me, but I'm never fully nourished. Just as a carnivore cannot live on vegetation, it is not in a vampire's nature to live without human blood.” 

“Loving someone wasn’t in mine, either.” Will said. “Until you.” 

He heard a slight chuckle from Hannibal’s end. “Am I worthy of you departing from your instincts?” 

“Am _I_?” 

“You are.” Hannibal said. “Whether or not that’s possible, however, is a different question. One should not rely on such a thing happening.” 

Conflicting feelings wrestled in Will’s heart. “I suppose only time will tell us the answer.” Will said. “Until then… Good night, Hannibal. And good luck.” 

He ended the call.


End file.
